Page 34 of A Deal for the Duke’s Virgin

“Scandalmonger? What a fine word.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, for heaven’s sake.”

“Come, I must hear whatever story is behind the tight reins he keeps on you.”

“There is no story.”

“I cannot believe that either.”

She rounded on him. “No, of course you cannot believe it. But not everybody is like you, Your Grace.”

He turned to face her, a slow smile tugging at his lips. A quick glance around revealed that the gallery had begun to empty for luncheon, with only a handful of visitors remaining at the other end of the room.

“And what am I like, then?” he asked sweetly.

Thalia narrowed her eyes, balling her hands into fists. “You are so… so….”

“So what? Come on, my dear. Spit it out.”

She growled and turned on her heel. Before she could stride away, however, he seized her wrist, tugging her back towards him.

Thalia yelped in surprise. Taken off-guard, it was easy enough to back her up against the pillar. Neatly tucked between the pillar and the wall, they would only be seen if somebody stood directly in front of the statue and glanced sideways.

Christian rested his forearm on the stone above her head, grinning down at her shocked face. “Come on, Thalia, we should speak openly with each other,” he purred. “Don’t you think?”

“No!” she shot back.

Her pupils were blown, her cheeks flushed. The blush had begun to inch down her neck, and he wondered how far it would go. Down her chest, between two perfect breasts, and over her belly?

Heat pooled in his gut.

Thalia’s breathing quickened, but her eyes never left his face. “This has gone far enough,” she breathed.

He lifted a hand, letting his knuckle trace the underside of her jaw. “If you would like me to step away,” he whispered softly, “then you have only to say the words, my dear.”

Her pulse hammered in the side of her neck. He let his fingertips brush the hot line, curving down to skim the front of her throat. Her lips parted.

“I do not want to cause a stir,” she whispered.

“Oh, now I know you are lying because you have never been afraid of causing a stir, have you, Thalia?”

“I…”

“You are no wallflower, oh no. You’re something else. Something sharper and brighter. Something unusual.”

She said nothing, merely staring at him.

The last of his restraint snapped. Leaning forward, Christian pressed his lips against hers. She tasted hot, of salt and tea. He felt her suck in a breath before her hands clawed at his shoulders, fingernails digging in hard enough to cause little pinpricks of pain. Arousal shot through him, and he wound an arm around her waist, pressing her against his chest.

She gasped again, and he swallowed the sound, sliding the tip of his tongue over her lower lip, almost tasting the heat inside.

He leaned back, mostly to breathe, and fitted his lips to the pulse point in her neck. She sucked in another breath, fingers scrabbling at his collar. He felt her fingers rake through the hair at the back of his head, curling and tugging.

Too much. This is a mistake.

How did it go so far so quickly? Stop it, you fool.

Before he could move away, or redeem himself by pulling back and apologizing, a voice called out, “Christian? Where on earth have you gone?”