Page 39 of How to Tempt a Duke

No, not just gloves. He wanted to peel the dazzling dress from her body and watch the true beauty of her being unveiled in a way no crystal or diamond could ever rival. She would be lovely. He needed only to see how the dress hugged her curves to know as much.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she whispered.

Her breath was sweet and her lips were parted with innocence, with temptation...

The touch of their fingers was not enough, damn it. He wanted more—needed more.

Though he knew he shouldn’t, he drew his arm around her waist, as he’d done when they’d danced the waltz. They stood together in the semi-darkness, far too close, with nothing between them but the sparking of mutual attraction.

Lady Eleanor did not pull back from him as she might once have done. She stared deep into his eyes, as if she saw every level of his soul...as if she could stay thus for hours.

He touched her cheek and cursed his gloves once more. Her lashes swept downward in pleasure at the caress. He shouldn’t be doing this—holding her, wanting to kiss her. The right thing to do would be to release her and make his way back into the ballroom.

Even as he thought of the right thing his body acted on the wrong thing. He tilted the delicate edge of her jaw upward, turning her face to the moon, the better to see her beauty in the cast of silver light before he lowered his mouth to the warmth of hers in a delicate kiss.

Her body eased closer against him and her lips opened ever so slightly, granting him the opportunity to gently suck her lower lip. And the Ice Queen melted in his arms.

Eleanor was lost in the Duke of Somersville’s kiss. His mouth was hot, and surprisingly soft, and the kiss was followed by the gentle drawing of her lower lip between his.

Despite the coolness of the night, her skin blazed with the most delicious heat and settled into a low, eager throb between her thighs. His fingers trailed behind her head, cradling the weight of her hair. Then—dear God—then his tongue swept into her mouth and brushed across her own.

Sweet heavens.

Her nipples hardened with a pleasant needling against the silk shift she wore beneath her gown and every bit of her skin seemed to dance with awareness.

The Duke pulled away and gazed down at her in a way no man had ever done. “My God, you are beautiful,” he said in a low voice.

“Will you kiss me again?” she asked breathlessly.

His gaze settled on her mouth and his lips lifted in a languid half smile. “Not here. Not now.” He swept his thumb over her cheek. “I do not want your absence noticed.”

She fought the urge to protest. She wanted to be kissed again. Again and again and again. Until the entire night faded away in the hungry pulse of heat still throbbing insistently through her.

“You shouldn’t look at me like that,” he said.

“Like what?”

“Like you wish I would kiss you again.”

Her knees went soft at the deepness of his voice, at his obvious attraction to her. “You could kiss me again,” she offered.

He put his hands behind his back and eased away to a proper distance, such as should exist between a lady and a gentleman. “I would not ruin your reputation, Lady Eleanor. I’ve seen the effects of ruination and would not wish it on a lady I hold in such high esteem.”

A lady he holds in such high esteem. Her heart should not swell so girlishly at mere words, and yet it did, expanding in the most delightfully happy way until her chest seemed near bursting.

His scent hovered on her skin and mixed with the warm pleasure still tingling over her lips. It was divine—a heady, exotic combination of spices and adventure. The scent of a man who had seen the world she had only ever imagined.

A glance toward the door confirmed that the dancers were walking away from the finished set. She would need to return before the next began.

“Have you come up with your answer for me yet? Will we work on the mystery of the journals together? Will you...?” She flushed, unable to ask the most pertinent question aloud again.

“Will I marry you if no one else will have you?” he finished for her.

When he said it she realized how sad it sounded—how desperately pathetic.

“It would be my honor to work with you.” His face was entirely earnest.

The very idea of working alongside him to solve the mystery left her pulse racing in her veins. The adventure...the excitement...