Tall, Duke, and Dangerous (Hazards of Dukes #2) - Megan Frampton Page 0,66
exclaimed.
“When you tried to subdue him with some cloth?” Nash said in a skeptical tone.
“Yes! And that is when you decided I should have self-defense lessons. Not that you’ve taught me much yet,” she added.
No, because the only time he’d tried, they’d ended up kissing. And then he had ended up regretting, and feeling horrible, and caring too much for her, and then he had gone and done it all again. Although she had been the one to want to do it again. He had just obliged her. Happily.
“Do you like them?”
Nash stared at the wall for a few moments, trying to form some sort of opinion. He usually avoided having to choose things, because choosing things would mean that he cared about something, and the only things he wanted to care about were ensuring his father’s bastards were provided for, his ability to hit someone who deserved it, and his whiskey.
Not in that order.
“I like the colors,” he said at last.
She rolled her eyes. Clearly he had not done a very good job of expressing an opinion.
“Let’s try something easier.”
The server came to stand in front of them, and Nash pointed to the whiskey in relief.
“I’ll take one of those, too,” she said to the server, who nodded.
“You?” he asked in surprise.
She gave a vigorous nod of her head. “I had some with Miss Octavia, and I think I like it. But I need more experience to know for certain.”
Ah. That explained why she seemed so vivacious. The server placed two glasses in front of them, pouring whiskey into both and leaving the bottle on the bar.
“You might not want any more,” he warned as she went to pick up her glass. “You’ll have a devil of a head tomorrow if you drink to excess.”
“You drink to excess, don’t you?” She frowned. Which honestly made her look completely adorable. “Besides, it is my choice.”
He took a deep breath. He didn’t think he’d ever been in the position of being the reasonable one in a situation, and yet here he was, having to dissuade a young lady from drinking too much whiskey.
Because too much whiskey would leave her vulnerable to—well, to gentlemen like him who might see her literal high spirits as an opportunity for inappropriate behavior.
But she wanted to kiss me—twice—when she was completely sober.
Never mind that.
“Tell me about the fabrics,” he said, trying to change the subject. “Speaking of choice, how did you come to choose those particular colors?”
There. That was a question that was more than a yes or no question, and if he could get her talking about something she was obviously enthusiastic about, perhaps she would forget she was asking him about alcohol. And how much she could drink and how much he did drink.
She picked up her glass and grinned at him as she tapped it against his, holding it up in front of her face, then taking a sip and setting it down.
So much for forgetting about alcohol.
At least she hadn’t drunk all of it.
“Do you really want to know?” she asked, sounding suspicious. “Because I don’t think you’ve ever thought about color choice before.”
He tried not to look guilty. “I don’t know that I have, but I think I should,” he said. He’d never allowed himself to think about colors, about anything other than muting his world. But now he wanted to learn. From her. “And who better to teach me than you what the best choices are?” He gestured toward her gown. “It’s obvious you care what you present to the world, what with your silver and pink gowns.”
Her cheeks turned pink to match her gown. “You noticed that gown?”
How could I not? You looked like starlight.
“Uh, it’s just that it was so different from what the other young ladies were wearing.” I couldn’t help but notice. I notice everything about you nowadays, from how you blush when you’re flattered, to how you challenge me when I try to rescue you, to how you can understand what I’m saying when I don’t say anything.
“Well, thank you,” she said, raising her chin. “I never got the opportunity for fine clothing before, and it is such a pleasure to look as good as you know you can.”
He rather thought that she might look as good as she could if she were entirely naked and in his bed, but he knew this was not the time to say that. Never was the time to say that, and he needed to remember that. Even though