Page 50 of The Duke's Rules Of Engagement
It could go nowhere.
It would risk her losing everything. Her livelihood, her career, her ability to care for her family, her desire for Lilly’s happiness.
Her mind knew better. But her heart, stubborn thing that it was, was attempting to clamor over logic. It was attempting to undermine her expertise at matchmaking. It would, if it could, destroy everything she’d worked so hard for.
“What?” Lilly asked, the brightness fading from her face. “What’s wrong?”
Jo swallowed hard. Throughout their lives, Lilly and Bess had been her closest friends and confidantes. But they’d been so caught up in Lilly’s drama of late that neither of them had noticed anything was amiss with Jo.
For the past several years, there had been only one thing Jo had hidden—and she thought she’d hidden it well—from the women who surrounded her. It was the loneliness she tried to conceal with the secondhand happiness she received from the women she lived with, and with the satisfaction she felt when she made a perfect match.
“Nothing’s wrong, really,” she reassured her friend, even as the familiar feelings welled up within her. Her heart was lying to her, telling her it was forming some kind of bond with the Duke of Crestmont. “I just had a moment of worry, that’s all. But it was silly.”
“Worry? What about?”
“That it might not work out between the duke and Harriet.”
Lilly gasped. “Did something happen?”
“No, no.” She proceeded to tell Lilly about Mr. Pellegrini’s failed courtship. “It’s shaken my confidence a bit, that’s all.”
Lilly chewed on her lip, tapping her pen on the desk. “It’s the first time that has happened, and it was bound to happen at some point. Mathematically speaking, it’s probably impossible for every single match you make to end in utter bliss.”
“But they all have so far,” Jo said.
“But this one—this one between Harriet and the Duke of Crestmont—it won’t. Harriet is absolutelyperfect. Haven’t you noticed?”
“I have, actually,” Jo said. That word again. Perfect. She tamped down a shudder.
“Any man would be lucky to have her, prince or pauper.”
“True.”
“Then it will be easy,” Lilly said confidently. “Anyone in Harriet’s presence cannot help but note how wonderful she is. All you have to do is make the duke see it.”
…
Jo’s heart sang when she opened the door and beheld the handsome countenance of the Duke of Crestmont, but she immediately threw a wet blanket over it, drowning out its ballad of joy.
“Your Grace,” she said with what she hoped was a polite, businesslike smile. She opened the door wider to allow him entry.
He smiled back, making her heart punch at that wet blanket. “Jo.”
She loved it so much when he said her name. But she needed it to stop. She needed them to move backward, spool back through their last few meetings and return to that perfunctory dislike they’d felt for each other upon encountering each other for the first—and second—time.
“You must call me Matthew.”
Yes!her heart screamed.
“No,” she murmured. “I cannot.”
She shut the door, and immediately he crowded her against it. Her body melted.
Lord. This was going to be more difficult than she’d anticipated. His lips were close to hers, her body enveloped in his citrus and bergamot essence. Her mouth already watered in anticipation of receiving another one of his knee-melting kisses.
She gripped his arm. It was so hard, so solid and masculine beneath her fingers. “What are you doing to me?” she whispered.
“Hmmm,” he murmured, his lips brushing her temple. “Seducing you, I hope.”
