Page 67 of Denying the Duke (Lords and Ladies in Love 3)

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Patience held her breath. He is here. She knew he’d arrived in the box because she smelled the ever-present bergamot. Mere seconds passed before he took the seat next to her, his warm presence flooding her with longing.

She’d seen him in the lobby when they first entered. Her stomach had dropped to her toes and she’d lost her breath. He looked so good. Tears had flooded her eyes at the sight of him dressed in his evening clothes, trying very hard to pretend he was interested in whatever Lady Talbot was rambling on about. Not wanting him to know she’d seen him, she bent close to Suzanna’s ear and mumbled some inane statement that had her cousin looking at her curiously.

The last two weeks had been hell. She’d refused to see him each time he’d arrived at the Montfort door.

She missed him so much her heart literally ached. At first, her righteous anger had sustained her refusal. He had done a vile thing. Then she spent a great deal of time thinking about what had happened that night, and the days leading up to it. Yes, he should have told her about Loverly so she would be on guard. But how could she know what his fears had been? He’d seen things she could never imagine. Was it so wrong for a husband to want to protect his wife?

And Loverly was a traitor, a kidnapper, and given the opportunity, probably a murderer, as well.

She’d concluded that, yes, Alex was no longer the young man she’d fallen in love with four years ago. He was, however, the grown man she’d fallen desperately and completely in love with since his return. Part of that man was what he’d been through while they had been separated. That could

not be undone, nor could their time apart be relived.

And love him she did.

Until she knew how to tell him of her feelings, she’d continued to bar him from her door. She’d spent hours pacing in her room, words flooding her brain, words she never seemed able to put together into something that made sense. Her feelings where Alex were concerned were raw. So very raw.

Many times, she wanted to race down the stairs and fling herself into his arms, but what they needed to say to each other required privacy and time. She had considered ordering a carriage from Montfort’s house and going back home. Had he not appeared at the theater tonight, she might have done it tomorrow.

He reached over and placed his gloved hand on hers. Even through the fabric she felt his heat, and the rapid beating of the pulse at his wrist.

Or was it hers?

Her mouth dried up and her stomach twisted with anxiety. He leaned over and murmured in her ear. “Are you enjoying the play?”

Play? Is there a play?

Unable to form coherent words, she nodded.

Alex leaned back and stared at the stage. Yes, there was a play. She tried to listen to the actors, but all her senses were heightened and focused on the man sitting next to her. He began to stroke the inside of her wrist with his fingertip.

She chewed on her lip and closed her eyes. His stroking turned to circles and she felt the tingles erupt in her nipples and between her legs. She pulled her hand away to keep him from feeling her heart pounding.

Once more he leaned toward her. “This is my favorite play.”

Indeed? She wondered what it was. People were prancing around the stage and spewing lines, but she had no idea what they said. She had known the name of the play before they left the house, but once she’d spotted Alex in the lobby, all thoughts—except for him—had vanished from her mind.

“Um.” Very intelligent answer. She did herself proud.

Again, he reached for her hand, and when she attempted to tug it away from him, he held fast. This time he intertwined their fingers and rested their hands on his thigh.

His very muscular thigh. Close to the part of him she noticed was growing. She quickly looked away.

Goodness, the theater was quite overheated this evening. She reached for the fan on her lap and her stiff fingers dropped it to the floor. They both bent at the same time to retrieve it and Alex used the incident to kiss her cheek.

Her hand flew to her face where she still felt the moistness from his lips. He placed the fan in her hand and turned back to the stage, a slight smile on the warm lips that had just kissed her. He was playing with her. Well, two could play this game.

She moved her leg so her foot rubbed up and down his calf, all the time watching the stage with pretended interest. Alex inched their joined hands more toward the inside of his thigh until they were inches from his manhood.

Sweat broke out on her upper lip. “Do you have a handkerchief, Your Grace?”

He turned to her as if surprised by her presence next to him. She wanted to kick him.

“Of course, Your Grace.” Keeping their hands joined, he reached with his other hand into his pocket and produced a handkerchief. Shaking it out, he handed it to her.

“Thank you.” She patted her upper lip and took a deep breath.