Who Wants to Marry a Duke - Sabrina Jeffries Page 0,19

thrust out her chin. “She and Papa insisted upon my having a debut. I did. No one offered for me. So I refused to repeat the process.”

“No one offered for you? I seem to recall a certain duke offering for you, and being refused.”

“That was different.” Her eyes gleamed in the moonlight. “You didn’t mean it. When you kissed me you were just having your usual sort of fun. Until Mama forced you into making an offer, you had no intention of actually marrying me.”

“My ‘usual sort of’—Wait, you knew your stepmother was forcing me?”

“Of course I knew. You made it painfully obvious.”

That didn’t mean she knew about the blackmail. And he certainly didn’t intend to tell her. The less people knew about it, the better.

Then the rest of her statement registered. “I didn’t realize I was obvious.”

Her face was hard as stone. “Well, you were. And I didn’t want a husband who had to be dragged to the altar.”

“I didn’t want a wife whom I’d known only an hour.”

“That’s fair.” She folded her hands behind her back. “But that doesn’t explain why you got so angry when I refused you. I only did what we both wanted.”

When she put it that way, he sounded mean spirited. Or was that how she wanted him to feel? “Are you saying that if I’d spouted some compliments and begged for your hand, you would have accepted me?”

She frowned. “Er . . . probably not.”

He advanced on her. “Because our kiss didn’t thrill you?”

“I didn’t say that.” She looked downright nervous now.

Good. He liked her nervous. She let her guard down then. “So our kiss did thrill you.”

“I—I’m not sure. . . .”

“Not sure?” He took another step forward, and she backed up toward the fountain, nearly falling in before he slipped his arm about her waist to steady her. “Well, Olivia? Which is it? Because our kiss certainly thrilled me. And I could have sworn I wasn’t alone in that.”

Her eyes widened and her fetching mouth fell open.

“But perhaps I should make certain of it,” he went on. “For both of us.”

Then lowering his head, he sealed his mouth to hers.

Chapter Three

Olivia grabbed his shoulders, but only to keep her balance. Not because she liked his kisses.

Oh, devil take it, she did like his kisses, which were as combustible as sweet oil of vitriol and nearly as dangerous. She’d forgotten how delicious his lips tasted, how him holding her close made her heart race and her knees wobble. He conjured up feelings she couldn’t comprehend. And as usual, whenever she didn’t understand something, she threw herself into it with even more enthusiasm until she did.

So she joined her hands around his neck—probably crushing his shirt collar and cravat—and opened her mouth to him in anticipation of him kissing her as he had before.

Instead, he drew back to search her face. “You never answered my question. Is your stepmother here? Is she hiding out in the garden somewhere?”

“How should I know if she’s hiding in the garden? I’ve been dancing with you. But yes, she’s at the ball somewhere. She’s my chaperone.”

He narrowed his gaze on her. “I’m trying to determine if this is another attempt to trick me into offering marriage.”

“Trick you! Dear heavens, you’re full of yourself.” When he bristled at that, she added, “You were the one who brought me out here, so only you would know why you did. For that matter, you were the one to initiate the kiss.”

“Ah. Right.” A self-deprecating chuckle escaped him. “Excellent point.”

She shook her head. She didn’t know what to think of him. “If it makes you feel any better, I promise to turn you down again if you do offer.”

“I have no intention of offering,” he said in a brittle tone.

She ignored the quick stab of disappointment in her chest. Even if she did like kissing him, she had no desire to marry such a self-important, arrogant fellow. He was too much like Papa in his habits. “Then since I have no intention of accepting, we’re in agreement. But as you seem ridiculously concerned about being caught kissing me, we should probably go back inside and—”

He smothered the rest of her words with his mouth.

She considered protesting. He was waxing hot and cold, and it got more confusing by the moment.

But then he did what he’d done before and thrust his tongue inside her mouth, and she melted. Kissing him in that fashion was like heaven. No wonder he was arrogant. He