Tall, Duke, and Dangerous (Hazards of Dukes #2) - Megan Frampton Page 0,9
a chair, her cane stretched toward Nash’s leg.
He held his hand out to the lady, who glared at him but took it, allowing him to draw her to her feet.
Who could possibly make Nash put on reasonable clothing, poke him as though he weren’t an angry bear, and get him to be somewhat polite?
“I’d like to introduce my grandmother, the dowager duchess of Malvern.”
Ah. Ana Maria held her hand out to the other woman as Nash continued speaking. “This is Lady Ana Maria Dutton, and this is the Duke of Hasford.”
The lady peered at Ana Maria, who felt suddenly self-conscious, as though she had a crumb stuck on her lip or something. Then again, she usually felt self-conscious, so perhaps it was just a reminder of her self-consciousness.
She licked her lip just in case.
“It is a pleasure,” the dowager duchess said, even though her tone held no indication that it was. “I have just come to town, and my grandson here has been accommodating enough to allow me to stay with him for a time.”
Ana Maria glanced at Nash, whose expression was set, though she saw his jaw was clenched.
So it was his grandmother who had succeeded in getting him garbed up and here, but she hadn’t been able to do the impossible—make him anyone other than Nash, irritated and taciturn.
And so much for trying to think he was just another aristocrat. She was already keenly aware of every flicker in his expression, every shift in his stance that seemed to scream out, I despise being here, and I might go punch something if I don’t get to leave soon.
But he didn’t. Instead, he did the thing she’d least expect, not in all her years of knowing him.
“Lady Ana Maria, would you care to dance?”
Chapter Three
“Lady Ana Maria, would you care to dance?”
Nash knew it was the correct thing to do, since she didn’t know many people in Society yet, and he imagined she might feel awkward about being seen not dancing.
But it also made him wildly uncomfortable because just a few minutes earlier he had been looking at her as though she was an attractive female, not his best friend’s sister.
Dancing would mean touching her. And touching her would mean—well, touching her. This was Ana Maria. Someone he’d known from when he was ten years old, reeling from the shock of his mother’s departure, searching for someone to take refuge with. He’d found Sebastian and Thaddeus, and by extension, her. Though he hadn’t paid much attention to her, neither then nor even more recently, except to think of her as a sister.
What he was thinking now was not remotely fraternal. Which made it feel like it was wrong, especially when he thought about how Seb and Thad would react if they knew.
They could never know. She could never know.
He still felt as though he couldn’t breathe from the impact of seeing her. And he couldn’t blame it entirely on the neckcloth. It was her. Up close, her gown was even more flimsily beautiful, not that he’d ever thought such a thing about an item of clothing before. But the threads in the fabric shimmered in the candlelight, and now he could see the soft, golden swells of her breasts, which were on gorgeous display thanks to the gown’s structure.
Her gown dipped in at her waist, then flared out at her hips. Wide, curvy hips that were a woman’s hips. Hips made to be held while—damn, he should not be thinking that. Not any of that.
“I would love to dance, thank you.”
Her voice reached him through a distant fog of confusion, discomfort, and a fierce longing.
“Excellent,” he heard his grandmother say.
“Excellent,” Thaddeus echoed, only he didn’t sound nearly as convinced as the dowager duchess. Because he knew full well what Nash’s opinion of parties and dancing and such were, and that Nash was usually spoiling for a fight.
Although he only spoiled for a justified fight. And he doubted there would be any cases of systemic oppression here.
He reached for her hand, and she raised it, placing her fingers in his palm. Was it his imagination, or did they tremble?
He wished she weren’t wearing gloves so he could feel her skin. No, he was relieved she was wearing gloves so he couldn’t feel her skin. That was it.
They walked to the dance floor as the musicians began to play again.
A waltz. Of course.
He placed his hand at her waist. Keenly aware of that hip just below. That breast just above. She