Desperate for a Duke
Page 21
She clung to Hazel because what terrified her the most was the answering urge to look back at him and engage the predator in him.
Once at the wedding breakfast, she did her best not to look for him over the many heads of the guests. She enjoyed the company of her family and other guests as plate after plate of food was brought out. She ate until she was painfully full, then sat back in her chair and smiled as Hazel teased their father mercilessly with outrageous requests for her own wedding. She smiled at her sister, her twin, who differed from her in so many ways. Anabelle was fair like their mother, her hair a buttery-blonde, her eyes the palest of blue. Hazel’s strands were streaked with honey and wheat, something Anabelle envied, but Hazel’s eyes mirrored her own, and Anabelle always found that comforting. Because of her sister, she was never alone.
Feeling at peace again, she searched for the happy couple. She found Heather and His Grace stationed in the entryway, an endless procession of guests greeting them and offering words of congratulations. Heather was glowing. In Anabelle’s mind, she had never looked happier. Again, she felt a pang of want—the envy for her own wedding, her own special someone. Love matches were rare but they did happen. Anabelle fervently hoped she would be blessed by love too. She looked away, feeling misty-eyed and dreary again. It wasn’t the time for such melancholy thoughts. It was a time for celebration, Heather’s time to shine brightly. Anabelle wished her all the joy in the world.
Feeling spritely, she stood and pulled Hazel from her chair. “Let’s see who is in the drawing room.”
Hazel nodded in agreement and followed. Progress was slow across the dining room, and they had to dutifully pause and greet acquaintances along the way. Reaching the entryway, the crowd thickened, and they waited as the Marchioness of Dunwick made her slow exit with her cane.
“She needs a sedan chair with strong men to carry her about the house,” Hazel murmured.
“Could you imagine? It would be all the rage but very inconvenient,” Anabelle tittered.
“I’d like to be carried by four shirtless men with excellent physiques, and one attendant to feed me grapes at all times.”
“Hazel!” Anabelle admonished. “That’s positively...”
“Ingenious. That’s the word you’re searching for.”
“No, it wasn’t.” But Anabelle couldn’t help laughing. The compaction of guests eased, and they were able to slip into the drawing room. Each sofa and chair was full, and Anabelle didn’t see anyone she wished to speak with.
“I must visit the retiring room,” Hazel said.
“It’s this way, if I remember correctly.” Anabelle led the way. That room was also crowded, so she elected to wait in the hall. Farther down, she could hear the laughter of gentlemen and a smoky haze was wafting from an open door. Curious, she eased closer and could hear the clink of billiard balls. She paused then turned to retreat. A billiard room was a male haven not suitable for young ladies, according to her mother. She moved back toward the retiring room and hurried away, but not before the firm steps of boots could be heard behind her. She slipped into an alcove, backing into a small table with a vase of flowers. She muffled a squeak as the table thumped into the wall. She kept her gaze down, wishing herself invisible, but a pair of boots halted before her.
“We meet again, Lady Anabelle.”
Her eyes snapped up. “It is not intentional, I assure you. I am waiting for my sister.”
“Ah, yes. Lady Hazel,” Draven said conversationally.
“That is her name. If you will excuse me.” Anabelle moved toward the retiring room.
“Don’t leave so soon.” He caught her hand. “I can’t help but feel this moment was meant to happen. Serendipitous, even.”
Anabelle turned back to him with a brow skeptically raised. “You find a meeting in a hall, near two rooms frequently visited by guests, in a home in which we are both very well-acquainted with the Duke and Duchess, serendipitous? Pray tell how.”
“I seem to have a knack for finding you alone.” He inched closer.
“We are not alone, Lord Draven.” Though at the moment, the hall was deserted except for them. “At any moment, another guest—my sister even—will appear.”
He only smiled, his gray eyes darker in the dimly lit hall. “For the moment, we are alone.”
“I’d prefer that we weren’t. I don’t wish to speak with you or be associated with you,” Anabelle hissed. She didn’t like being so rude, but he was dangerous to her, a threat to her reputation and her husband-hunting plans. She didn’t like the way he made her feel. It was uncomfortable when a person could make one feel unsettled and hot with their presence alone.
He stood up straighter, for once not thoroughly amused by her distaste of him. “What have I done to earn such malice, if I may ask?”
Anabelle glared at him. “As if you don’t know. You are spreading a rumor that we’ve kissed.”
“You are the only one who spread the rumor, my sweet.”
“You told me you told Lord Rigsby,” Anabelle seethed. His calmness only upset her more.
“He is of no concern. He isn’t one to gossip or care whom I kiss.”
“Then why did you do it?”
“Truthfully? To unsettle you. You need a good kiss, Lady Anabelle.”
Anabelle blinked. “I don’t understand.”
“Frankly, neither do I, but I find that the more I think about not kissing you, the more convinced I am that I should. The rumor may be untrue, but I can’t let it die unless I do it in truth.”
“You want to kiss me?”
“I think I’ve made that quite clear,” he uttered condescendingly.
“Why?” Anabelle was baffled.
“Why not? You are a challenge to be met.”
“A challenge?” Anabelle was fuming now. She looked around, determined to give him the set down he deserved, but not where they could easily be seen and overheard.
“This way.” He took her hand and tugged her farther down the hall. He paused at the billiard room and peeked in. Satisfied no one was paying attention to the door, he tugged her across the open door and down the hall to a very plain sitting room. He closed the door behind them and released her hand. “You may commence with your tirade.” He folded his arms across his chest.
Anabelle didn’t know where to begin. She wanted to rip apart his character, insult him as grievously as he had insulted her. “Have you no heart?” she blurted.
“I beg your pardon?” He frowned.
“You behave as if this is all some sort of game, but this is not a game. My very future hangs on a thread of respectability. I have nothing but a dowry and my good name to offer a husband. My purpose in life is to marry and marry well. I happen to also want to achieve a marriage of significant affection.” Her eyes burned with the threat of tears and she turned away in humiliation.
“Are we speaking of love again?” he asked after a moment.
She couldn’t face him, but she nodded her head. “I know you think it’s absurd, but it is of great importance to me. I wish to find a husband I can love and be loved in return, but I cannot do that if you destroy my every chance with the threat of a kiss we did not share. A meaningless, insignificant kiss.” She dabbed at her eyes and took a deep breath. She felt a semblance of calm return now that she had vented her feelings. She didn’t feel his approach until he stood right behind her.
“My kisses are never meaningless or insignificant.”
Anabelle stiffened. He set his hands on her shoulders and turned her, tipping up her chin once she faced him and forcing her to look into his eyes.
“Did you hear me?” He was very serious.
Anabelle nodded. His eyes were dark. Streaks of lighter grey stood out like bolts of lightning frozen in time.
“I want to kiss you, because you need to be kissed. How else are you to know whether a man is capable of love, of all things, if you’ve never experienced any of the emotions that lead to it? If you’ve never experienced what happ
ens between a man and a woman, how will you ever know what love is?”
Anabelle didn’t have an answer. She couldn’t even find the power to resist him as she should, as his hands slid around her back and pulled her into him.
“One kiss is all I’m asking for, and then you will know exactly of what I speak. Perhaps it will even help you find what you are searching for.” His head leaned forward slowly. He didn’t wait for her assent but neither did he ask.
His lips touched hers slowly, and then molded around hers confidently. At first, she felt nothing but shock, and then the warmth of his mouth and his body began to penetrate her. She did not resist him as his kiss grew in boldness. Instead, she let go of her restraint and let herself experience it with all her senses. His lips were soft and sultry, something that was at odds with his cold and cutting demeanor. His body was warm, and she could feel the hardness of his chest against her breasts. His arms were strong around her, but not crushing her, and she found the sensation pleasant. She eased against him as his lean lips parted. His tongue teased the seam of her lips. Curious, Anabelle opened hesitantly, the velvety slickness of his tongue gaining entry, little by little, until she opened fully.
Light and colors danced behind her eyes as the gentle kiss became sensually overwhelming. She forgot how to breathe. Forgot how to do anything but taste him. He tasted of brandy and a wildness she didn’t understand. She was simply overcome, the wonder of this daring new experience overriding all thought and rationale. His tongue darted and explored. Involuntarily, she responded, her own tongue answering to his, doing things she didn’t even know she could do. The rest of her was frozen with amazement, too stunned to do more than hold on to him.
He withdrew from her, and Anabelle blinked rapidly as her wits returned. When she focused on his face, she found him sporting a peculiar frown. She backed away from him, an unavoidable humiliating blush covering her cheeks. She bit her tongue. She had the absurd urge to apologize. For what, she didn’t know, but he was clearly displeased with the kiss.
“Now that you got what you wanted, kindly leave me alone,” she rushed to say. He didn’t move or say a word, and Anabelle hurried from the room, distraught and angry. She didn’t know what to think or what to do. She hurried down the hall and rushed to the retiring room. Hazel was not present, but a maid stood by with towels. Anabelle sat before a vanity and looked at her reflection. Her color was high. It was obvious that she was upset. She wished to bury her head in her hands, but this wasn’t the time or the place. She took a deep breath and fanned her cheeks. She needed to return to the party as serene as she had been when she left it. Hazel was probably looking for her. Anabelle stood with her back straight and her hands steady once again. It was just a kiss. She could admit that the kiss greatly affected her, but not him. It was better that way. Now he would leave her alone and she could go on with her matrimonial plans.
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About the Author
Dayna was only fourteen when she developed a serious addiction to romance novels. What began as an innocent desire to read became an all-out obsession with the romance genre. She gave book reports on romance novels, got in trouble for reading during lectures, and would rather spend her time reading than attending high school parties. After all, high school boys could not compete with the likes of Stephanie Laurens Devil Cynster. After getting her first job, her addiction only got worse. She now had her own money to spend and a car to get to Barnes and Noble as frequently as she wanted. She managed to maintain a somewhat normal life, marrying her high school boyfriend who was aware he was competing with fictional men for her attention. Dayna soon began writing her own romance novels, inspired by her love for all things romance. Dayna and her family live in Southern California with their two children and three fur babies. Dayna is happiest at home where she can be with her family and write to her hearts content.
Also by Dayna Quince
The Fated for Love Series:
Mine, All Mine
Sweet Torture
Storm on the Horizon
To Love, Honor, and Obey
Desperate and Daring Series:
Desperate for a Duke
Belle of the Ball
Just One Kiss
Anything But Innocent
An Unconventional Innocent
Mad About You
Withered Rose
Wildwood Flower
An Undesirable Duke
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