Lady Vivian Defies a Duke - By Samantha Grace Page 0,35
slender neck. Her voice held every ounce of the dynamic spirit that infused her, drawing him closer. There was something uncommonly engaging about her. She was the juxtaposition of innocence and lustful joy for life. She stirred his desire unlike any woman ever had, but he resisted her call. He couldn’t offer her what she deserved, and he cared enough for Vivian to deny his selfish urges.
Ashden was a fool. The marquess’s sister possessed no fault to render her undesirable, as evidenced by the bloody rake salivating at her left.
Collier—having declined to leave when Brookhaven and Mrs. Price made their exit—shared in Vivian’s merriment. His hungry gaze roamed over her, lingering too long on her modest décolletage. “Lady Vivian, you are enchanting beyond compare. I do hope we may further our acquaintance in Northumberland.”
Like hell they would. Collier would never be on Luke’s approved list of suitors for Vivian. Not that he had compiled a list.
Collier laughed at something else she said—likely something charming Luke had missed while wrapped up in his thoughts of throttling the blackguard—and placed his arm on the back of her chair. One glare from Luke made him jerk back.
“You only needed to stake your claim, Foxhaven,” he mumbled. “Don’t know why you didn’t make an indication earlier.”
Vivian’s silver gaze, twinkling with mischief, lifted toward Luke. Her cheeks were flushed and her lips moist and red from the wine. He would enjoy staking his claim. The realization rattled him.
“Mr. Collier, you mistake His Grace’s intentions,” Vivian said with a sweet smile. “He only wishes to play matchmaker on my behalf.”
Luke held his grimace in check. Serving Vivian wine had been more than folly. It was a bloody disaster.
She turned back to Collier and lowered her voice. “He seems particular, I’m afraid. Perhaps he thinks you are an unsuitable match.”
“The devil, you say!” Collier glowered at Luke over the top of her golden head. “What objection do you have to my person?”
“The shorter list would be what he doesn’t object to about your person,” Drew piped up from his side of the table. He looked too amused by half. “You’re a rakehell of the first order.”
“I am not.” Collier tried to hammer his fist on the table, missed, and smacked his thigh. “Where did the blasted table go?”
Vivian laughed again, drawing the man’s attention back to the creamy swells of flesh jiggling too damned enticingly above the neckline of her gown.
Luke pushed back from the table. This had gone on long enough. In another minute, he would issue a challenge to Collier and ruin their chances for an early start on the morrow. “Lady Vivian is correct. I don’t approve of you.”
Collier narrowed his eyes. “Are you her guardian or something?”
“I’m something.” A hard knot formed in Luke’s belly. As appealing as she was to him, he must give her up once they reached Northumberland. But they were not in Northumberland yet, and he would rather beat Collier silly than surrender Vivian to him.
Luke offered her a hand up. “My lady, I will return you to the care of your maid now.”
She placed her hand in his, her intense stare never wavering. “Thank you, Your Grace.”
“Good evening, Collier,” Drew said as he assisted Lana from her seat.
“No need to cut the evening short. It’s early, gents.”
No one paid him any notice.
Once their party reached the upper floor of the inn, Luke nodded to Drew to signal he wished to be alone with Vivian. His brother swept Lana into the room across the corridor before she could protest, and from her surprised cry once the door closed, his brother had found a way to distract her.
Vivian captured Luke’s hands and urged him to follow as she backed against the wall. “Have you ever courted a lady, Your Grace?”
Before he could answer, she frowned. Her forehead wrinkled in concentration as she reached her fingers to touch his bottom lip and tugged it down to peer into his mouth. “Is there a name for that little gap between your teeth?”
He playfully nipped her finger. She jerked her hand back with a squeal.
“You can’t handle your spirits, darling.”
Her hand settled on his chest. “I have never had wine before tonight.”
When she swayed to the left, he captured her around the waist. She twined her arms around his neck and tipped her face up, her eyes closed.
He savored her heat and perfume. Her scent reminded him of a confection. She was the only sweet he wanted. He leaned forward, tempted to taste