Hazel cleared her throat, looking away as though the chandeliers had suddenly become riveting. “Regardless,” she said, “I am perfectly calm now. I appreciate your… attempt at distraction.”
“Attempt?” he echoed, lifting an amused eyebrow.
“Yes,” she said primly. “Though I will admit, it has been moderately effective.”
“Moderately.”
“Moderately,” she repeated, nodding as though delivering a grave assessment.
“Well then,” he murmured, leaning slightly closer, “perhaps I ought to try harder.”
Hazel’s breath caught. He felt it in the hand he held, but she recovered with admirable speed.
“You needn’t trouble yourself. I assure you, I am not so easily swayed.”
Greyson’s mouth curved in a slow, deliberate smile. “We shall see.”
Hazel’s answering glare was half challenge, half invitation, and entirely intoxicating.
Chapter Eleven
Hazel’s eyes, bright with challenge, flicked up to meet his. “I know whyIconstantly look at the crowd,” she said. “But what, pray tell, is stealingyourattention?”
Greyson felt a sharp, unwelcome jolt in his chest. He had hoped she would not notice. But Hazel Thorne noticed everything.
He lowered his voice, letting it thread between them like a soft challenge. “Tell me, Duchess… are you jealous of the idea that I might have been looking at another lady?”
Her reaction was immediate and deeply gratifying. She blinked. Her breath caught. And then, to his absolute delight, a flush bloomed across her cheeks so vividly that even the dim candlelight could not hide it.
“Jealous?” she repeated, scandalized. “Ofyoulooking at…” She paused, visibly grappling with the concept. “At some other lady?”
His mouth curved. “Yes. Does the thought bother you?”
Her spine straightened. “Of course not.”
“Not even a little?”
She sniffed primly. “Certainly not.”
Greyson very nearly laughed. “Your face says otherwise.”
Hazel’s blush deepened. “It does no such thing.”
“It does exactly that.”
“It does not,” she insisted, though her voice had gained a rather telling tightness.
He raised a brow. “Your nose scrunches when you lie.”
Hazel gasped. “It doesnotscrunch.”
“It does,” he assured her, unable to stop the warmth creeping into his tone. “Adorably.”
Now she looked personally offended and mortified. And, he realized with a startling jolt, utterly enchanting.
“You are imagining things,” she declared, forcing her gaze away from him. “I am not jealous. I merely…” She faltered.
“Yes?” he prompted, far too pleased.
