Deena felt warmth spread across her skin. It was a new, annoying, and unwelcome feeling. She refused to let it show.
“I’ll spare you the embarrassment this once,” she said dryly, “since you’re Dominic’s oldest friend. I will not write a word about you in my little project.”
“Your project,” he repeated, amusement deepening. “The anonymous exposé of scandalous lords. How delightfully wicked.”
“It’s business,” she corrected. “But I still need your help locating one particular gentleman.”
“And who might that be?”
“The Velvet Duke,” she said without hesitation. “He’s notorious enough to sell a million copies.”
Austin’s brows shot up. “The Velvet Duke?”
“Yes. You’ve heard of him?” In her eagerness, she leaned closer to him and was met with the warm, masculine scent of soap and skin.
“I may have.” He smirked down at her, his gaze flicking to her lips and distracting her even further. “But I’m curious to hear whatyou’veheard of him?”
Deena cleared her throat and quickly backed away before his scent allured her further. “All I know is that he’s the duke every gossip sheet swoons over. A silken seducer and quite the opposite of the Wolf, who was discreet in his doings. I also heard that he is a breaker of hearts, et cetera.” She waved a hand. “If I can uncover something truly juicy about him, my pamphlet will fly off the shelves.”
Austin leaned against the nearest bookcase, arms crossed, watching her with an intensity that made the room feel smaller.
“And why,” he asked softly, “would the sister of a wealthy duke need to sell pamphlets for a living? Has Dominic turned miserly and cut your allowance?”
Deena’s spine straightened. “God forbid a woman might want to do something other than embroider cushions and wait to be chosen.”
Austin’s lips curved. “I said nothing about embroidery.”
“You didn’t have to.” She met his gaze squarely. “Some of us prefer to earn our own way rather than rely on the generosity of brothers. Or husbands.”
“Admirable,” he murmured. “Though I confess I am curious. In all those years abroad, no man ever tempted you towards the married state. No charming Frenchman or brooding Italian Count?”
She gave a short laugh. “None worth the sacrifice.”
“The French are known for their power of seduction.”
“And how do you know this?”
His eyes lingered on her face, and made her breath catch despite herself.
“I’ll spare you the details as you seem too innocent to understand,” he finally said.
He had changed, too, she realized. The boyish mischief in his features had sharpened into something more troubling: the strong line of his jaw, the fullness of his lower lip, the way his lashes cast shadows over those hazel eyes. It was infuriating how well time had treated him.
“And what of you?” she asked, forcing lightness into her tone. “Shopping for a wife at my grandmother’s house party and finding none in all these years? That is far more peculiar.”
Austin’s smile faded slightly. “I will find a wife this season.”
“I shall pray that you do.”
“It is a duke’s duty, after all.”
“Duty,” she echoed. “How very noble.”
Silence settled between them, thick and sudden.
He pushed away from the bookcase. “You truly intend to publish these scandals?”
“I do.”
