He’d been intrigued by Chev’s description. Then transfixed by a single glimpse. And now that he’d seen her lower lip tremble in want of his kiss, nothing in hell, heaven, or earth could stand in his way.
“I cannot,” she said.
Nothing but her conscience.
“Why not?” he asked.
Her mouth opened and then closed. “Well, there are moral consid—”
“To hell with morality.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Hell is exactly my concern.”
He snorted. “You are a widow. If we are discreet—and I am always discreet—no one of consequence will know.”
“Iwill know.”
He studied her face. “I cannot offer the sanctity of marriage, if there is such a thing as sanctity.”
A look of horror passed over her features. “I did not mean...that is to say, I would never be so bold to suggest marriage to a duke.” She recovered her composure. “Especially one who wishes to make me his plaything.”
Plaything?His brows shot up. “I do not play.”
“You want me to be your mistress.”
“No,” he replied. “I want you in my bed for three nights. That is all I ask.”
She blinked. “Pardon?”
He smoothed a crease in his trousers. “I am not at liberty to provide an extended liaison.” Any longer would leave her burned. At best, desolate and weeping, like Liza. At worst...
He wouldn’t consider the worst.
Her breath caused her shoulders to rise and fall. They were approaching something. What, he hadn’t any idea.
“I am intrigued,” she replied, finally. “And tempted, shamed as I am to admit it. But I cannot—” she flushed scarlet, “—grant your wish.”
“Tempted,” he murmured.
She turned her back, and her features were reflected in the mirror by the door. He stood up, framing her with his body.
“We make a handsome couple, don’t you think?” He grasped her shoulders. “An intriguing contrast of light and dark.”
Her eyes were cocked pistols, following every move. “You frighten me, Duke.”
“Truly, you have no cause to fear. I am at your mercy.”
Her lips parted.
“I will,” he lowered his voice, “obeyanycommand.”
She did not ask him to step away.
“I would like to remove your hat,” he said.
“Why?” she asked.
“Because I long to touch your hair.” He moved his right hand to her chin, accidentally skimming her breasts with his arm. Blood drained to his groin. “You brush your hair every night, don’t you? As if in preparation for a lover.”
