Games of Desire for Lady Hellion: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Olivia Bennet

  He turned back to look at her, and she quickly looked away, although with a bubble of laughter threatening to escape her lips.

  “So, other than fighting and telling off unsuspecting gentlemen, what do you like to do?”

  “I only tell off those gentlemen who deserve it,” she said, a twinkle in her eye and her lips twisted into a tease. The Duke amused her, that much was true, and she couldn’t quite believe he was so easily wooing her. He was more than just handsome, he was witty and full of life, and a light shone from within him like a beacon to her.

  Diana squirmed in her seat, the heat he had brought with him leaving her damp and perspiring. She pulled at the neckline of her gown, then fanned herself wildly with her hand, swallowing hard against the warmth she felt all over.

  Is this what attraction feels like? Hot and sticky but thrilling all the same?

  “May I be so bold as to ask why you are not dancing?” he said. “There are any number of gentlemen in there who would jump at the chance of dancing with such a beautiful young lady.”

  “Like you,” she said, reddening at his compliment. “I wished to take a little air. Although truth be told, my Sister deserves to spend some time in the limelight, away from me. There are plenty of people in there to keep her occupied—and keep her safe from prying hands. And so I thought a little time alone would do me good.”

  “And I have ruined it with my appearance.” He made to stand up, but she shot a hand out to stop him, a sudden panic at the thought that he would leave.

  “Ruined it? How?”

  “You are not alone when I am here, Lady Diana,” he said, laughing a little, but he let himself be guided back down to his seat. “But if you’d prefer, I can leave?”

  “No, I…” she felt her cheeks flush hot and pink again, “it’s all right. A little company is all right. I…it’s different with you.”

  “All right,” he said, and smiled at her.

  The way he looked at her lit her on fire, and she could not take her eyes from him. She licked her lips, breathing deeply, slowly, and feeling the slight shake of excitement build within her. He invoked in her something she had only ever read about it in books, and while it had been enjoyable thirdhand, it was something else in real life. He made her feel as though she was made of fire, burning bright and keen.

  They said nothing more, not then, but they looked at each other as though only they existed. Diana found herself wanting to never look away, to never lose the connection she had with this irritating, funny, handsome man. It was as though, already, something bound them together, a thread that wouldn’t break—that they did not want to break, ever.

  She moved closer, slowly, surely, and he did the same, leaning over from his seat until his face was almost touching hers. She could feel his breath on her cheek, smell the brandy mixed with his manly scent. She could see his eyes, chocolate brown with flecks of gold, and so full of wonder, of need, of uncertainty, too.

  He's as nervous as I am.

  That realization sent an excited shiver through her, that while he was confident and strong, he was also a gentle soul who feared losing this connection as much as she.

  “Lady Diana,” he whispered, and her name felt warm as it rushed past her face. Her name sounded like something special upon his lips.

  “Yes?” she asked. She felt something in her chest swell and grow, and she almost whimpered with the tension. She swallowed, not daring to look away, not daring to back up. She wanted to be this close to him, to smell him, to taste him.

  “May I kiss you?” he asked, still holding her gaze as though it was the most precious thing he had ever held.

  “Yes,” she said again, although she would not have been able to say no. Not then, not at that time. Not after being so close to him for so long. It was an inevitable that they would kiss, an inevitability that left her in tremors.

  And so he did it. He kissed her. He moved that tiny bit closer until his lips barely brushed against hers. She closed her eyes, his touch sending a shiver down her spine, but the sensation stopped before it had even begun, so chaste and quick the kiss was.

  She did not open her eyes, but she could still feel his breath on her face, his lips a hair’s breadth away.

  “That was…” she gasped, a smile on her face, “rather pleasant,” she said, although she could feel his uncertain tension, the way he held himself warily, as though terrified of frightening her away.

  He did not answer except with another kiss but this time, a true kiss. It was a kiss full of everything they could not say, everything they could not do. It was a kiss so full of desire that Diana felt weak but for her need to push herself forward, give herself to him. How she wanted to feel his strong arms around her, touching her, taking her, allowing her to be true to herself.

  She very almost put her arms around him, but she did not, instead forcing them to remain by her side. They were being improper enough, and she would not let herself go further. She would not be so bold and forward. But that did not mean she would stop herself from kissing him. She felt his tongue run across her bottom lip and she kissed it, taking it into her mouth, tasting him, enjoying him, begging him for more.

  “Your Grace,” she murmured, her mouth mixed with his, their breath and passion entwined.

  She kissed him again, softly but with so much feeling and he kissed her back, wanting it, needing it, craving it. She whimpered softly, barely audible, but he felt the vibrations through his lips, and he kissed her harder, unable to stop, unable to back away.

  This was not what he had intended. He told himself he had not wanted to find her at all, let alone be drawn into kissing her. But now that he had…

  Goodness, now that I have—

  His whole body shook with the passion, the excitement, and he could barely hold himself back. He had not known it, but he wanted it more than he had ever wanted anything before. He couldn’t even think of Lady Celine, not with Lady Diana’s lips upon him. As they kissed, the world was made up of just the two of them, and thoughts of anything else simply melted away.

  He pulled back, just a little, his nose still touching hers, her breath still on his face, and he looked at her. He could not look away, but he felt his heart palpitate and his brow furrowed with sudden concern. As their lips had parted, his senses had returned to him, and he realized how far from his path he had wandered. This was not what he was meant to be doing. He had been so single minded in his determination for so long, and this lady had derailed him in a matter of minutes.

  And yet—

  He wanted to growl in frustration at his own lack of discipline, his own desire that he could not rid himself of. And yet she was endlessly fascinating. She was a jewel he had uncovered, a marvel he could not pull himself away from. His mind was a mass of confusion, a ball of twine so entangled he could not pull thread from thread. He wanted it—her—so very badly, but it did nothing to help his purpose and he was conflicted in his desires. He knew how wrong it was—so very wrong—but he couldn’t stop it.

  “That was—”

  “Yes,” she said, smiling, “it was.”

  And in those words, she said it all. She bit her bottom lip and it looked so tantalizing, so tempting, that he almost leaned forward and kissed her again, but he refrained, knowing he couldn’t, shouldn’t. He sat back on the bench and looked at her, his uncertainty a knot in his throat.

  His heart thumped even louder now, although he had not thought it possible. His entire being was a mix of fear and lust and hesitation, and it roiled within him like an unsettled sea.

  What am I to do?

  “Are you—?” he asked, unsure how to continue.

  “Yes,” she said, reading him so easily that he thought her something akin to magic.

  He let out his breath in a sigh, feeling a lightness that raised him from his seat, but still there was that dark tie, always there and pulling him back down, their plan not letting him ever be free. He was a trapped bear, fighting against his cage in desperatio
n to get out.

  He grinned at Lady Diana, then, so wide it hurt his cheeks. Seeing her face made him forget all his woes, and he could not stop his smile. And then he looked at her, truly looked at her.

  She is an angel.

  “I suppose we ought to have a conversation that does not involve my telling you off,” Lady Diana said with a wry smile.

  “Yes,” he said and chuckled. How is she doing this to me? “I suppose we should. What would you like to talk about?”

  “I don’t really know,” Lady Diana said, and Isaac marveled once again. Talking to her was so easy, it flowed with no effort, no awkwardness, and that he loved, that made him feel so free.

  Being with her is like walking on air.

  It was so different to anything he had experienced before. Until meeting Lady Diana, his life had been filled with only darkness and thoughts of despair. Before, he thought only of the plan that Thomas had developed, threading through Isaac’s very being. Now, although the darkness was far from gone and his ultimate intention still remained unmovable, he felt sparks of light bursting through him, stars coming to life and a weightlessness that seemed so unearthly.

  “How are you enjoying your evening?” he asked eventually. She chuckled at that and he looked at her confused. “What is so funny?” he asked, but he could not stop himself laughing also, her laugh infectious, her smile irresistible.

  “After a kiss like that, you ask me something as insipid as How are you enjoying your evening? I credited you with more intelligence than that, Your Grace.”

  She laughed, so freely, unlike any laugh he had ever heard from a well-brought-up lady, and the sound was invigorating. How he adored the difference in her from the rest of the ladies in the ballroom.

  She mocked him often, too, but he liked it. It showed her confidence and her strength of character. It showed her to be a lady who would not allow him even the smallest of slights. She was fierce with passion and life.

  “Isaac. Please call me Isaac,” he said, breathless and full of wonder. “And perhaps you are right, but that kiss has positively wiped my mind clean. How can you expect a man to think of anything, after such a kiss? I can now think of nothing but your sweet lips, My Lady, and of the scent of you so near.”

  He meant those words more than he had ever meant anything, but still there rested that conflict within him, that fear that he had wandered too far from a path he and Thomas had spent so long building. He needed to get back on track. He needed to forget this folly and move on, find Lady Celine and win her over, just as they had discussed.

  But when he looked at Lady Diana, the path in front of him began to crumble, and another opened up.

  “Goodness me, Isaac, you are quite the charmer,” she said, and as she spoke, he delighted in seeing the pink of her flushed cheeks, the joyful sparkle in her eyes. He could see, too, the teasing grin on her lips and, by God, that made him happy. “All right, since you have been rendered insensible,” she said, “I shall begin. How is your family? Is it large?”

  “Large?” Isaac said with a humorless laugh. “It is just myself and my Brother. My parents both died when I was young and as far as I am aware, I do not have any other family, but we manage well enough.”

  “Oh, that’s terrible,” Diana said, and she sounded to all the world as though she meant it. A hand had flown to her chest and her eyes had softened in sadness.

  But how can she possibly understand?

  “You learn to live with it,” he said with a shrug, as though it were nothing.

  But it was not nothing, and he had not learned how to live with it. Talk of his family brought him back to his senses, and he silently chided himself for his foolishness. He should not dally with this woman, no matter how drawn to her he was. He was a fool, and nothing more.

  He noticed then that she looked down at her lap with a sorrow in her eyes, and he panicked for a second that he had made her feel awkward. Even in his quest, he did not want to make her feel bad. Not about anything. When she looked back up, though, her eyes were moist with unshed tears.

  “Yes, you do learn to live with it,” she said, and he looked at her curiously, his focus once again entirely on her.

  She understands. But how?

  “You do?” he asked.

  “My mother died when I was young,” she said, her voice soft and solemn. She didn’t meet his gaze and he knew, from his own experiences, that she thought of her mother, of all the things they did together. “I miss her every single day. But at least I am lucky enough to still have my Father.”

  “I’m so sorry, Lady Diana. I did not mean to bring up old memories. I know how hard it can be, when you’ve forgotten your loss for a moment, only for it to thoughtlessly be returned to conversation.”

  She smiled at him and he could see a deep sadness within her, even within her gratitude at his kind words. Even if that sadness was hidden beneath her bright personality and the passion she had for him, even then. His heart sang still, not at her pain but at the fact that she so obviously understood his own. He had rarely met anyone could even fathom the horrors of losing a parent at such a young age.

  “It is what it is,” she said with a nonchalant shrug that he knew to be false. He knew, because he had done the exact same shrug too many times. “Nothing we can do now but make our late parents proud of us.”

  He wanted, then, more than anything, to share everything with her—every bit of pain he had ever felt, and what little happiness he had within him. He wanted to tell her everything, to bare his soul and accept her salve, because he was certain she could soothe his aches and make him feel alive again.

  But I have a job to do, and I must not deviate from the plan.

  Chapter 10

  “And what about you?” he asked, his voice intentionally brighter, his words moving the conversation to safer ground. “I am not interested in me, Lady Diana. I want to hear about your life, about your joys.”

  “Call me Diana,” she said. “You have afforded me that courtesy so I suppose I can, too.”

  She looked at him with a teasing smile, and he chuckled, a sound that to her ears was a true delight. They seemed to have become so close so quickly, and she could not let that slip away.

  “Diana, then. You like reading?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I adore reading. Especially stories of love. Does that make me a silly female? Concerned not with intellectual literature but stories of knights and kings instead?”

  She laughed as though she mocked herself, but she felt nervous, too. It was true that she preferred gentler books, those that allowed her to enter into a fantasy world, but she didn’t want him to think of her as mindless, as just the same as other ladies who thought only of romance. She had so much more substance to her than that, and she wanted him to know it.

  “That makes you nothing but a romantic,” he said sincerely. “There is nothing wrong at all with enjoying novels, Diana, and I do not doubt your intelligence in other matters.”

  She smiled at that, as though he had said the sweetest thing in the world. An excitement built up within her, his acceptance suddenly the most important thing to her, and she felt as though he had seen her, truly seen her for what she really was.

  “I’m glad you think so,” she said, unable to stop herself grinning. “I love romance novels, but there is indeed more to life, as you say. It is possible to enjoy them both.”

  It was more than a physical attraction she felt—but heavens, that attraction is strong. She felt so entirely comfortable with him, as though she could say anything to him, and he would still be by her side. With him, she felt strong and confident, she felt as though together, they could do anything and nobody could stop them. He held her up, and she, in turn, did the same for him.

  She had never before felt like that. Not with her sister, nor her mother, and certainly not with her father. She felt light as a feather, as though at any moment she could float away, and she wanted to laugh or cry out in delight or tell the world how hap
py she was. This was the most magnificent moment in her life, and the anxiety that tickled at her told her it was only the beginning.

  “Do you like to read?” she asked after a while, putting on her sweetest smile.

  “If only I had the time,” he said. “Being a Duke, it’s a terrific privilege, but I cannot deny it requires a lot of work.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” she gushed, eager to talk of his work, of how his days passed. “A Dukedom is no doubt a challenge. Do you love it, though?”

  “Yes,” he said, and she did not doubt his sincerity. “I love it dearly. I get to talk to people, to engage, while playing with investments at the same time. It certainly keeps me busy and that is good, as I detest idleness.”