The insufferable man raised a condescending eyebrow. ‘On the contrary, Miss Simmons. I find you shockingly unique.’
Damnation.
Unique things were noticed. Not good.
Hannah cleared her throat. ‘Quite honestly, I’m flattered, Your Grace. But let me reassure you, I’m completely common and very easily forgotten by someone as grand as you.’ When all else failed, appeal to a man’s vanity. It was usually a successful trick. Though the tart edge to her voice sounded more insulting than flattering.
She shouldn’t let the man provoke her. Yet, inexplicably, she wanted to pit her will against his and see who emerged the victor. Completely untoward.
What is wrong with me tonight?
‘I remember everything, Miss Simmons.’
Hannah rolled her eyes. ‘I see male hyperbole is still alive and well.’
‘You dare to doubt a duke?’
‘I dare to doubt you. What kind of duke pins a lady to the floor and refuses to release her? Hardly gentlemanly behaviour.’ Despite her efforts to remain calm, her awareness of their position became increasingly acute.
His hands were rough and warm around her wrists. His heavy body created friction in peculiar places, quickly morphing into pleasurable tingles. The scent of bergamot blended with whiskey, mint, and leather in a distinctly masculine aroma.
Blast and bother. NowI’msniffinghim.
Judging by the tick in his jaw and the flex of his fingers around her wrists, he noticed.
‘Dukes rarely behave like gentlemen.’ The darkness in his gaze deepened, and a thrill of fear stiffened Hannah’s spine.
He was a powerful man. She had given him a considerable advantage. To free herself now would require incapacitating him which she could easily manage, but questions would be asked if the duke was found unconscious and bleeding in the study.
Serves him right for being so gallingly obtuse.
Thankfully, he relieved her of having to make a choice. As quickly as he tackled her, Lord Killian released her wrists and rose, gripping her hands and pulling her upright. While he still stood too close for propriety, at least his body no longer pressed against hers.
‘I should go.’ Hannah backed toward the door.
‘What exactly are you doing in Lord Bradford’s study in the first place, Miss Simmons?’
Hannah raised her brows in mock innocence. ‘One might ask the same of you, Your Grace.’ She let the silence sharpen between them like a blade. Just before it cut, she shrugged, breaking the tension. ‘I was looking for the retiring room and became lost.’
‘Liar.’ Lord Killian’s gaze pierced through her.
‘Ladies don’t lie.’
‘Ladies don’t use “bollocks” in conversation either.’
‘That depends entirely on the lady.’ Hannah narrowed her eyes. ‘What wereyoudoing here, Your Grace?’
‘Rather bold of you to question a duke, Miss Simmons. Should I be impressed or infuriated?’
‘Neither. In fact, I think it prudent we forget this entire incident.’ She turned and unlatched the door.
‘Are you in the habit of telling dukes what to do?’ His voice was devoid of inflection.
‘Hardly, sir. I’m rather in the habit of avoiding dukes altogether. Something I shall endeavour to accomplish with more success in the future.’ She glanced over her shoulder at him, his plains and edges illuminated by the moonlight. He really was a dashing figure with wide shoulders, powerful legs, and a trim waist.
Devils are always dashing.
‘You seem a woman accustomed to success, Miss Simmons.But something tells me your luck is about to change.’ His lips curled in a suggestive smile, transforming his face entirely from arresting to devastatingly handsome.
