Enchanting the Duke - Lana Williams Page 0,32

better. Otherwise, he’d say to hell with the ball, lift her in his arms, and carry her to the bed.

The very thought caused his mouth to go dry. Would that be the beginning of the end? The first step of following in his father’s footsteps to ruin?

“Is something amiss?”

He looked up to meet Eleanor’s gaze in the reflection, one delicate brow lifted. “Nothing at all.”

He was being ridiculous. Just because he had the sudden urge to forget the outside world for a moment didn’t mean he was anything like his father. He’d already proven that many times over. Nor was Eleanor intent on doing anything other than supporting him in his responsibilities.

He fastened the clasp and with gentle fingers, turned Eleanor to face him. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” Her gaze dropped to his lips and the desperate urge to kiss her caused him to take a step back.

His feelings for her overwhelmed him. One kiss could easily lead to more, a dangerous step when he was already so tempted. He was careful not to look at the bed that stood waiting nearby, lest he forget himself.

“Shall we?” he asked and offered his arm.

“The evening should be enjoyable, don’t you think?” She took his arm and started toward the door, seemingly unaware of the myriad of emotions swirling through him.

“Indeed.” Assuming he could control himself and they’d actually make it to the ballroom. He reached for the door but paused in surprise when Eleanor put her gloved hand on his to halt him.

“Thank you for coming to the house party, Douglas.” She lifted onto her toes to kiss him. “I’ve enjoyed spending time with you.”

The brief touch of her lips wasn’t nearly enough. She’d set a match to the spark within him, and it burst to life at the contact. Even as she drew back, he gripped her upper arms and kissed her again, his tongue demanding entrance so he might better taste her. Much to his pleasure, she met his need and then some, giving in to the kiss with abandon.

He pressed his body against hers, silently cursing the layers of clothing between them. Heat poured through him, clouding his thoughts. All he could think of was more.

Before he realized what he was doing, his hand caught the folds of her gown and drew up the skirt. It took only a moment before his fingers trailed along the bare skin of her thigh above her silk stocking.

“Douglas?” Eleanor kissed his neck, then again just below his ear, her breath coming unsteadily, and it took all his wherewithal to answer.

“Yes?”

“I don’t mind being late to the ball, but I believe everyone will know what kept us.”

Puzzled, he drew back to look at her. Already, the light of passion lit her eyes, her cheeks were flushed, and he could easily imagine pulling the pins from her hair. The desire to see her wearing nothing but the ruby and diamonds shocked him. Especially since part of the reason was that they marked her as his.

“Right. Of course.” With resolve, he gathered the crumbling remains of his fortitude and released her to adjust his suit coat.

She straightened his collar with a smile. “I look forward to continuing this in a few hours.” Her dark eyes met his, and his breath caught at the promise in their depths.

The tension earlier fell away in an instant. There was no hurry. This beautiful, loving woman was his wife. They had their whole lives ahead of them. Unable to resist, he reached out to tuck a tendril of her hair back into the chignon. “As do I.”

Once again, he offered his arm and opened the door. They made their way toward the stairs and descended, the short train of Eleanor’s dress making a swooshing noise with each stair.

Eleanor chatted about the events of the day. He couldn’t decide if she did so to take her mind from their passionate interlude or his. The idea almost made him smile.

Burbridge and his duchess were standing in the receiving line, greeting guests, but Douglas guided Eleanor around the group and directly into the ballroom.

“May I ask for the first dance?” Eleanor’s hopeful look tightened his chest, but he raised a brow in surprise that she’d asked before he could.

“The honor would be mine, though I must warn you that I’m not much of a dancer.” He rarely socialized, let alone at balls, and couldn’t think of the last time he’d danced.

“I have no doubt you’ll be a fine partner.” Her gaze