“What do you mean?” Katherine asked.
“You’ll see.”
Fifteen minutes later, standing in front of the fire in her room, she knew exactly what the devil had meant. For the second Lord Marks had greeted them, Benedict had gone into detail of how Katherine, in all her clumsiness, had tripped him, causing them both to fall into the snow. He added that she often fell and took others with her, so it would be wise to watch his footing throughout the week. And then he winked.
“I should have known,” she said before they parted ways to their rooms.
“But of course, my dear. You know how I love telling falsehoods.”
“Touché.”
“Does this mean I win this round?” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed each knuckle. His eyes danced with merriment as he licked his lips.
“Yes.”
“Then, I believe we’re even. Now change out of those clothes before you catch a chill. After all, I cannot in good sport play a game with someone who’s ill.”
She withdrew her hand and curtsied but not before rolling her eyes at the handsome man. He paused, focusing on her lips and then her eyes.
“Minx.”
“Rogue.”
“I shall see you at dinner.”
“You shall.”
And again they paused, words left unsaid. But weren’t actions louder than words, for their very actions must have led everyone to believe that a minute without one another was like a thousand deaths.
And so, Katherine was the first to turn on her heel and enter her chambers.
She smiled at the memory of the day then cursed herself for being so infatuated. All was lost, for he already had the better part of her heart.
“Please don’t break it,” she whispered into the fire and closed her eyes as her chest constricted with that all too familiar pain of rejection. Benedict never said he wanted her, and it was clear that Paisley had still thought her a little girl. Fear squeezed the walls of her throat threatening to close it all together. Was he toying with her? Or did he truly enjoy their flirtation? And if he did, was it enough for him to marry her in earnest?
The flames licked into the air as if mocking her. The very flames that the Devil Duke was born out of no doubt, yet a small part of him it seemed was not the man he wanted everyone to believe he was. The more moments they had together, the closer she was to understanding the man behind all the rumors.
He was actually fun.
Invigorating.
Beautiful.
She cursed. A decision needed to be made. Her heart was already lost, her body his. So, it was without pause that Katherine decided on giving in to the very thing she as most afraid of. If he denied her, refused to repay her vulnerability with his own truth, then at least she‘d have tried and would have no regrets, save the absolute horror of falling without the proof that he would be there to catch her.
Chapter Thirteen
Erotic Dinners and the Like
The evening of the first day of the house party was upon them, and already Benedict was feeling lost.
A snowball fight? Whatever had he been thinking? Or her for that matter! Then again, he hadn’t remembered a time since he was a boy that he’d laughed so hard, or felt freer.
It was her fault.
She even turned her clumsiness into a private joke between the two, smiling at him, making him feel warm inside as if her smile held the secret to the sun’s rays.
The secret to the sun’s rays?
And apparently, in his mad state, he was turning into a poet.
Heaven help him.
He was losing not only his sanity but also his heart. Benedict could only hope that Katherine would do something, anything to make him remember the girl she once was, not the seductive woman he currently saw.
It had taken the power of God alone to get him to stop kissing her in the snow and the strength of angels to push his feet toward the house.
He made his way down the stairs to the dining room and cursed his eyes for scanning the room in hopes of seeing Katherine.
She was nowhere to be seen.
Perplexed, he didn’t even see Lord Marks until the man cleared his throat. “Say, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you so distracted, your grace.”
“Yes well, I…” Benedict felt off balance, as if someone had pushed him onto ice without skates. “Have an aversion to cold weather,” he offered, wanting to slap himself for such a ridiculous excuse.
“Do you now?” Lord Marks looked amused, his brown eyes twinkling as he folded his arms across his chest.
“Yes.” Benedict stood his ground and promptly began to sweat. He still felt odd as if something was off, perhaps the universe was trying to communicate with him that he needed to stop being a besotted fool and kissing girls who would rather fillet him alive than marry him. And then, his eyes again scanned the doors to the dining room. They opened.
His jaw slackened.
Lord Marks cleared his throat. “Close your mouth before you scare the poor thing. She is not to be the meal.”
Saints alive, let her at least be the dessert then.
Katherine walked in with more grace than she ought to possess considering she had only hours ago tripped out of the carriage and started the most arousing snowball fight he had ever had the pleasure of participating in.
His eyes openly admired her form in the blue dinner dress. Had she any idea how much skin she was showing? The poor thing was going to freeze to death! Suddenly irate and irritated that she would think nothing of her health, Benedict stomped over to where she stood and grabbed her arm roughly, placing her hand in the crook of his elbow and covering it with his own. A feral growl rumbled in the back of his throat.
Yes, like a dog. He growled to show his displeasure. Was he now at odds with his body? It seemed to instinctively do things it ought not do. Poetry? Growling? Staring? Salivating? Sweating?
Cursing, he clenched her hand and gave her a tight smile. “Beautiful dress.”
“Why thank you. I—”
“Where would the rest of it be? Hmm?” His eyes flickered to her breasts and then back up to her face, and to his ultimate shame, back down to her breasts where they stayed for a painfully long time until Katherine nudged him in the ribs.
“Manners, you devil.” She winked.
His stomach did an odd sort of flop.
His heart increased his blood flow to all the wrong areas of anatomy, and when he made introductions to the rest of the dinner party, he felt such a stab of jealousy when Sir Constantine’s gaze flew to her bosom, he thought his head would explode.
If not for Katherine being on his arm, he would have ripped the man's head off and beat him with it. But the minute he tensed, Katherine looked up through dark lashes and smiled brilliantly, striking him dumb and immobile.
“Shall we sit?” she whispered, her lips only inches from his.
Why did her simple invitation seem to be one of sin rather than common sense? Shall we sit? Why the devil would he sit when he wanted nothing more than to lie down, plunder, possess… Truly he could think of any number of actions he would rather give his full participation to than sitting.
Alas, he was in public, and though his reputation laughed in the face of propriety, he couldn’t bring himself to ravish the girl in public, no matter how badly he desired it. Katherine’s eyes crinkled at the sides as she offered a small smile and brought her hand down her neck to her chest.
Minx.
Dessert, yes she would be his dessert if he made it through dinner. But about the likelihood of accomplishing that, he had his doubts.
By the time the third course was served, Benedict had imagined all sorts of ways to kill oneself with a fork.
There was of course, the slow death of pounding one’s head against the sharp object. Naturally, he could slice his skin with the knife if he felt so compelled. And his personal favorite, trying to swallow the thing and hoping death would come swiftly in the form of asphyxiation.
>
None of those options, however, provided him a fast enough escape from his current predicament.
It had all started with the soup.
And went downhill from there.
There was nothing particularly wrong with the soup. It was hot, and he was hungry, but his damned eye had the ridiculous notion that it needed to pay attention to the woman on his right.
Katherine, to be exact.
And hell if that eye didn’t train on her very lips as she held the spoon near them and closed her eyes in ecstasy.
He had shifted in his chair.
Deuced uncomfortable dinner to be honest.
He prayed the soup would be taken away and fifteen agonizing minutes later, it was replaced with something new.
Ah! Yes, at least roast goose would give him respite. For what woman in all creation could make roast goose look erotic?
Oh, how wrong he had been.
Even now his body tightened at the thought.
And he wasn’t quite sure eating dinner would ever be enjoyable again, at least not when he had guests surrounding him and Katherine dropping pieces of meat into her delicate mouth. He nearly wept as she would close her eyes and moan when no one was looking, no one but him unfortunately. Her vulgarity knew no end, yet he found it fascinating as the low rumble would start in her throat and spread until he nearly dropped his fork each time she brought food to her lips. Finally, she would swallow and take a sip of wine, what he wouldn’t give to be glassware in that moment.
Well, he hadn’t eaten anything at all, which of course caused a ridiculous amount of questions. Was he not feeling well? Had the ride from town been rough? If only, he thought, if only it was anything but demure.
Voice hoarse, he had merely shook his head and prayed for Katherine to spill her wine or do something clumsy.
Instead, his unsteady hand hit the wine causing it to topple onto the white cloth. Once dessert was served, the women retired away from the men, and he was finally at peace with his cheroot and brandy out on the balcony.
And then he felt her.
Benedict couldn’t help but think it had to be some sort of sixth sense, that every time she was near, he would begin to shake and lose control of his calm exterior. His body would heat, thinking on her until he wanted to begin stripping his clothes.
“Am I interrupting?” she asked, lightly falling beside him, her dainty arms leaned across the balcony, breasts spilled over her dress, and again he was struck dumb. Why in blazes hadn’t she worn a coat?
“You’ll catch your death out here,” he grumbled, disgusted with his lack of bodily control. As it was, he was having a devil of a time keeping his arousal in check, and he hadn’t even touched the girl.
“Well, good thing I have my fiancé nearby to warm me up.” Katherine looked up at him with merry eyes and patted him lightly on the shoulder.
It was his undoing.
That one touch.
The one gaze from her eyes.
And again he found himself falling, as if he could no longer see straight or stay in balance if his life depended on it. His need was so great that he wanted to yell and laugh at the same time.
Instead he just kissed her.
But to say it was just a kiss would be like saying the ocean was just a mass of water, or the sun was just a star. No, this kiss was unlike any other kiss he had ever experienced in his lifetime or hoped to experience.
Because, he thought as his lips danced with hers, it was shared with his other half.
And in that kiss, as she sighed into his arms, as his tongue dove deep into the velvet moisture of her mouth, he knew he wanted to continue to fall if it meant she would be the one to catch him.
In the end, was that not what everyone else wanted?
With the strength of a god, he pulled back and muffled a curse before raising his eyes heavenward. “She’s won, by Jove, she’s won.”
“Pardon?” Katherine’s lips were still swollen from their kiss, her eyes barely visible through her thick lashes. “Who won?”
“The devil.”
“I thought you were the devil?”
He snickered. “From where did you think I descended? Thin air? And I was referring to my aunt.”
“Oh?” Katherine squinted at him as if he had in fact turned into a pink unicorn. To be fair, he was acting like a complete idiot, spouting nonsense into the sky like a fool. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Are you unwell?” she whispered near his face, too near, for it caused him to jerk back and trip. He hadn’t the grace or common sense to break his fall as he collapsed onto the hard ground and looked up into her amused eyes.
Gracefully, she knelt down and felt his head. “You’re positively flushed, shall I take you to bed?”
“Please,” he begged, wanting much more than she was offering, innocent that she was.
“I meant,” she scolded, hitting him with her hand, “should I help you to you room then promptly leave you to suffer alone?”
Well, at least she hadn’t offered to kill him. He had been quite forward with her all evening, and he deduced he was already on some sort of borrowed time considering his behavior was appalling. Not that he wasn’t used to offending others. But not her.
Not her.
Suddenly, he wanted much more than to give in because his aunt desired him to marry.
He wanted to.
Devil take him… he wanted to treat her…
Why was it so hard to say in his head?
He wanted to court the girl, to do right by her.
He waved in the air, literally lifted his hand and waved, as all of his best laid plans flew into the night sky. There would be no ravishing, no ruining, no laughing in the face of marriage.
No, he imagined he was the type of man that once marriage took him prisoner, he would happily, if not drunkenly, offer his leg willingly to the ball and chain and boast about it for the rest of his days.
Such a nuisance that.
Katherine felt his forehead again. “You do not feel feverish. Tell me, what is your name, and where are you?”
Oh, he could have fun with this one. Perhaps just a little ruin never hurt anyone? He gave a goofy grin and shrugged.
“Oh, my!” Katherine helped him to his feet and immediately began reprimanding him as she led him into the house. “And to think you would get so foxed! My goodness, have you any care for your reputation? Never mind. I momentarily forgot with whom I was speaking. But we both know how accident-prone you can be. Imagine if you had fallen from the balcony! Whatever would we do!”
He smiled smugly. Of course she cared for his welfare. It felt good.
“I mean…” She cursed under her breath. “Imagine the mess the servants would have to clean up, and then I would have to tell your dragon of an aunt that I led you to your death, and she would most likely say finally, considering I have brought you quite close at least three times.”
“Four.” He coughed then slapped the silly grin back in place.
Her eyes narrowed.
He purposefully tripped on the first stair.
Shaking her head, she helped him up the stairs and continued her tirade until she pushed open the bedroom doors and laid him across the bed.
Surely in his drunken — albeit falsely drunken — state, one could not blame him for taking full advantage.
And take full advantage he did. With a sigh he pulled her onto his body and closed his eyes.
Chapter Fourteen
Seduction by Moonlight
“Oomph!” Katherine fell across his hard muscled body with a thud. Well, now he’d done it. She was in somewhat of a pickle. How the devil was she to pry her body from his when the man's hands were pulling her tighter and tighter against him?
Honestly, she’d never seen him so foxed before. Was he that upset over the marriage? Perhaps it was boredom. He was, after all, the devil. Meaning he was used to much more lively entertainment than eating a casual dinner and smoking a chero
ot.
She sighed and tried to pry her body free.
Benedict’s response was a moan. His lips somehow found hers again and he worked his spell, his wicked magic over her body until she was sure she was going to go to a very fiery place.
They were not married.
They were only betrothed.
Accidently, of course.
And now she was in his bedroom. His bedroom! Acting the absolute wanton, but oh, the things he did with his tongue.
“Benedict,” she whispered against his lips. “Benedict, you must let me go.”
“No.”
“No?” His lips moved to her neck, his warm tongue traced the curve of her jaw.
Oh, the wicked things he did with his tongue. “Yes, you want me to let you go, or no, you want to stay?”
“Yes. No!”
“Wait, do you mean yes or no? Sorry love, I’m somewhat foxed and need you to be a little more direct.”
She kicked him with her foot.
He laughed. “I deserved that. It appears when I asked for you to be direct, you were under the impression I wanted violence.”
Katherine closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against his. “You are impossible.”
“So I’ve been told.” He sighed and then miraculously released her. Only, she wasn’t prepared so she fell off the bed and landed with a thud on the floor.
Benedict chuckled then peeked over the edge. “Take a tumble, did you?”
“Sometimes I wish I could slap you.”
“Believe me, love, it would only encourage me more.”
She smiled despite herself and righted her skirts, so she wasn’t again flashing her knees to the duke, and then stood on wobbly legs.
“Goodnight, your grace,” she said in her haughtiest voice.
“Goodnight, my love.”
Rolling her eyes, she walked to the door. He was most definitely foxed, for everyone knew the Devil Duke did not love. He was more likely to jump off the highest balcony in London than admit any sort of emotional attachment.
That really was a pity, considering her heart did a tiny clench when he uttered those sacred words.
“Goodnight,” she said again before stepping quietly into the hall.
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