He sighed and opened the missive his mother had sent, taking a moment to peruse it. “Botheration. She and my brother are threatening to come here for Christmas.”
“Good,” she said, trying to hold back her mirth, “you should not be on your own at this time of the year.”
“How is it different from any other time of the year?” He emitted a soft growl, a deep, sensual sound that shot tingles through her. “Bloody nuisance—this is exactly as I feared. They are bringing along a small party of their friends.”
Honestly, did this man have to be so curmudgeonly? “But that is wonderful.”
He frowned. “It is a disaster, and all because of that stupid betting book. They now think I am on the hunt for a wife.”
“Shouldn’t you be? You know, ducal duty and all. Keeping up the family line. Popping out heirs.”
“That would require me to attach myself to one of those giggling geese. Not to mention, I would also have to deal with the goose’s anxious mother.”
“By ‘giggling geese,’ I suppose you meantondiamonds. Poor man, to be surrounded by all that elegance and beauty. The loveliest women in all of England swooning over you. How absolutely awful for you. My heart bleeds.”
He arched an eyebrow, looking wickedly appealing as he cast her a stern look. “Itisawful. This is my home. My sanctuary. I do not want it invaded by people who drink too much, party too much, and cannot shut up.”
She burst into laughter. “Oh dear. Stop being such a curmudgeon. And stop making me laugh. It hurts.”
“Do not chide me, Temple. This is a terrible turn of events.”
“I’m sorry. It is just surprising to see you so…upended.” She had not realized quite how much of a lone wolf he was. Or lone dragon. Well, he was this magnificently forbidding beast, big and gorgeous, and unfortunately trusting no one. “Have you always been this way, Your Grace?”
“Reclusive?” He shrugged. “Not always. A man’s preferences change over time. I happen to like my peace and quiet.”
“And I have now turned your household upside down. Indeed, I am truly sorry.”
He shook his head. “No, Temple. Wasn’t your fault. Nor are you an imposition. And you do not grate on my nerves.”
“Oh, goodness. You have put me in a swoon with such an irresistible compliment. Do you hear yourself? Is this how you go about seducing a woman? ‘My dear,’” she said in a deep voice to mimic his own, “‘you are tolerable, and do not make me grind my teeth as you blather. Come into my bed.’”
“I like to think I have a smoother delivery than that,” he said with a genuine smile. “However, most would leap into my bed without my ever having to say a word. A mere nod would be enough. Not even names exchanged.”
Her eyes widened.
“Temple, you are quite naïve. Do you doubt me?”
“No, I suppose it is true enough. You are handsome, wealthy, and titled. What is there not to adore?”
“The thing is, women would surrender to me even if I looked like a toad. It is all about the title, you see. I am a duke.” He grunted. “And therein lies the problem. How am I to trust anyone, man or woman, when they all come at me with their hands outstretched?”
“And I am among the most shameful,” she admitted, knowing how eager she was to collect his thousand pounds for the vicarage coffers.
“No, you are honest and forthright. You do not pretend to want something other than my money…and another eight kisses.”
She blushed, for she did want them.
He cast her a knowing grin.
“We could end the farce and you could just give me the remaining eight hundred pounds,” she suggested.
He glanced at the door as Martha approached, which meant their chat would come to an end soon. “I could, but I am not going to do it,” he said quietly. “Temple, you shall have your eight kisses, and I am going to kiss you with enough heat to melt every delectable bone in your body.”
He rose and left her with her mouth agape, casting her a wicked smile as he bade her and Martha a good evening.
Ailis’s heart was in an untamable flutter. Her face was aflame.
She was glad he did not remain in the room, for she would have made a fool of herself in front of him.
