Tall, Duke, and Dangerous (Hazards of Dukes #2) - Megan Frampton Page 0,53

so I guess I am staying out here to avoid any more dances.”

She paused. “What are you doing out here?”

Looking for you.

“Shouldn’t you be inside charming all the ladies who might marry you?” Did he imagine her aggrieved tone?

“I don’t think any of them want to. Except for perhaps Lady Felicity, and I’m fairly certain she’s thinking how she can successfully avoid me after we’re married.” Which would suit him, of course, but it did not appeal at all.

“Oh,” she said in a faint tone. “So it’s to be Lady Felicity?” She picked her dance card up and rubbed where he had written his name. “I don’t want to make things more complicated—you don’t have to dance with me.”

He reached out to grasp her wrist, stilling her hand. “Stop. I want to dance with you.” He was speaking the absolute truth, wasn’t he?

Or not. The absolute truth would be that there was so much more he wanted to do with her. Things that involved her mouth, his body, her hands, his tongue.

And now his cock was stiffening in his trousers, and he didn’t want to stand up, but sitting next to her only meant the problem would grow. So to speak.

She nodded in agreement, but her mouth was pressed together as if she was unhappy.

He wanted to make her happy.

No, Goddamn it, he didn’t. He couldn’t.

“Well,” he said after a moment. “I—my grandmother demands, and I agree with her. I will see you for our dance.”

He rose, nodded briefly, then made his way back to the ballroom, intent on doing anything but the one thing he wanted to most, which was stay with her.

Chapter Thirteen

My lady, I hope you received my bouquet?

My lady, do you prefer roses or lilies?

My lady, what kind of flowers will it take to get you to agree to marry me? So that I might also marry your dowry?

Fine. So the last conversation was entirely imagined, but she knew full well what these gentlemen wished they could say.

She’d returned to the ballroom with only two dances asked for, but now she’d been astonished to discover her dance card was entirely full. Gentlemen—with anxious-looking mamas at their backs—had approached her over the course of just a few minutes, each one asking if he might have the honor, etc., etc.

Her, not truly caring one way or the other.

Not because she was going to settle for one of them, of course. She wasn’t a complete ninny. But because she would not settle for any of them. Not if it meant being in a loveless marriage where the most important relationship was with her money.

Nash had a reason to get married, she knew that. But fortunately for her own situation, there was no reason she had to, beyond wanting all of that happily ever after nonsense.

Which she did. But given the current flowers-equals-romantic-interest code currently being tossed at her, she didn’t see herself achieving that anytime soon.

Especially since the one person she’d like to explore that with was so determinedly against it.

If she could just persuade him to be open to it—there was no guarantee they’d suit. But shouldn’t they at least try to see if it would at all work out?

According to him, no.

She sighed, glancing at her dance card for the hundredth time. The supper dance was only in a few more dances. She just had to get through a dance with Lord Brunley of the Will Not Accept a Rejection Brunleys, and then another dance with some gentleman who’d looked terrified she might refuse his request.

She had felt bad for that fellow, even though she also knew that pity was no basis for a relationship.

“My lady.”

Lord Brunley arrived right as she was pondering what it would take for a non-Nash gentleman to win her heart.

Nothing less than a perfect dedication to her happiness, a wish to see her fulfilled in some sort of creative work, and a face that could launch a thousand ships, if the ships were crewed by sailors who were motivated by such things.

In other words, no one.

She shrugged as Lord Brunley led her out to the dance floor.

At least she knew she looked good enough to waste flowers on—her gown this evening was white shot through with gold thread, making her look as though she literally shimmered.

Jane had done her hair up in a simple, classic style, winding a gold ribbon through her curls. She wore topaz earrings and a matching topaz necklace, a gift Sebastian had given her when she’d turned eighteen.