But this…
This, she found shockingly appealing. The darkness, the way it cloaked him, and his presence despite it. He must have spent a great deal of time in this carriage because it smelled like him:a distinctly masculine scent that made her think of leather and soap.
Although now there was also the musky scent of sweat along with the mix. She also caught a faint hint of something she suspected might be blood. In the club, she had noticed his knuckles were injured. His fighting had either gone extremely well or extremely badly; she couldn’t decide which.
From what she had seen the last time, it had probably gone extremely well.
Her thighs shook as she pressed them together.
“I dislike your high-handedness,” she said into the silence.
“And I dislike that you repeatedly put yourself in danger with no thought of the consequences. Did you imagine that a young lady might suffer greatly if news of this got out?”
“And how would news get out?” she demanded, incensed. “Do you intend to spread rumors about me?”
“Me? No. But if I recognized you, then someone else might.”
“It is not a place that many noble gentlemen attend,” Thalia said, narrowing her eyes at him.
The first time she’d seen him, she’d been shocked, but more so when she had considered the sort of place it was.
Not a high-end institution for men of means and class.
This was the sort of place where gang leaders congregated to convince the unfortunate to part with more of their money. How Elliot had gotten mixed up in it, she didn’t know. He was a very respectable man, ordinarily.
The Duke said nothing to her, neither confirming nor denying her suspicions that he, too, wanted no one to know if his identity. In that place, he had not appeared to her as the polished gentleman at the picnic.
“It strikes me you are not very respectable either,” she said.
He scowled. “Whether or not that is true, you can hardly deny that if someone were to pick a fight with me—far less likely, given I do not hold the same appeal to the men there—then I would at least be able to defend myself.”
“I can defend myself!”
“With what?” He leaned even closer, bridging the space between them, and a new thrill ran through her. She had never kissed a gentleman before, and she couldn’t help wondering what might happen if she were to kiss him now. “You are hardly a lady accustomed to getting into brawls, I’d imagine. A man could easily overpower you.”
Furious, she matched him, her hands clenched by her sides. If he wasn’t careful, he would discover precisely how well she could defend herself.
“Do you have experience with overpowering ladies, Your Grace?”
“If I were in the habit of doing such things, do you truly suppose I would have allowed you to walk out of my library the first time we met?”
“I knew it!” She jabbed him in the chest, noticing belatedly how unforgiving his muscles were under her hands.
A boxer, indeed.
She had seen plenty of men with their knuckles wrapped, and several others being carried or dragged out of the premises. Regardless of what he thought, she was not a simpleton. She’d understood that the Duke was there to participate in boxing matches.
He took hold of her wrist, fingers wrapping around her bare skin just above her gloves. At the contact, she shivered.
His voice was velvety, sliding luxuriously over her skin. “What did you know?”
“That you are no gentleman.”
“On the contrary. I am every bit a gentleman, which is why I am taking you home tonight.”
“As opposed to your home where you might have your wicked way with me?”
“You would do well not to provoke gentlemen who are attempting to do you favors.”
