A Duke Changes Everything

by Christy Carlyle

  “Red becomes you,” he said, his voice rough and low enough that others wouldn’t hear.

  “It’s not too—”

  “It’s perfect.” He swallowed hard as he swept his gaze down her body, but he also frowned. “Why are you here?”

  “Colin’s thresher.”

  The furrows of his frown deepened. “Pardon?”

  “His thresher. The idea he wished to present to you. You mentioned that Mr. Iverson might be interested in investing, so we came to discover whether he would.”

  “On a whim? Without a proper introduction or even the knowledge that he’d be at home?” His voice turned irritated, a gruff pitch she was coming to know well. “If Fairchild had brought a proper proposal to me, I might have been willing to invest.”

  Unfortunately, his ire always sparked her rebellious spirit. “I thought you were only interested in earning a profit. Besides, you weren’t there to consult.”

  He snatched a drink from the same footman who’d passed a moment before, swigging the liquor down in one swallow. “Somehow, I don’t think you would have asked my permission.”

  “Why are you here?” Mina didn’t mind the coincidence of finding him at Iverson’s, but was it a coincidence? Or had he come to find her?

  “I had business with Iverson and a member of the club.”

  “Something troubling?” Perhaps she wasn’t the reason after all, and yet his expression brought back a memory. A moment in the moonlight, when she’d watched him burn his father’s portrait. “You have the same look in your eyes as the night you arrived at Enderley.”

  “What look?”

  “A haunted one.”

  “Some would say I deserve to be haunted.” He deposited his glass and swiped another from the footman’s tray. “And much worse.”

  “I disagree.”

  “Miss Thorne!” Mrs. Elmhurst called. “We’re about to begin the parlor games. Won’t you come and join us on the settee? You can sit between me and my son.” She shoved at a thin young man beside her. “Move over, Percy.”

  “Do you know that woman?” Nick asked.

  “We met a moment ago. I should . . .”

  “Stay with me.” He reached for her, his fingers gentle and achingly warm against her wrist. “I pushed you away yesterday and I need to apologize. Speaking of that experience brings the memories back too sharply.”

  “I’m the one who stormed in where I shouldn’t have.”

  “You only asked for the truth.” That bleak look shadowed his eyes again. “You spent your whole life at Enderley. You deserve that much after the way I reacted.”

  “But not if the memories cause you pain . . .” How could they not? How could he be anything but tortured to recall what his father had done? “I never wish to cause you pain.”

  “Miss Thorne, may I be so bold?” Mrs. Elmhurst’s son came to stand at Mina’s elbow. “My mother has asked me to retrieve you and she’s quite tenacious.”

  “She’ll join you in a moment.” Nick cast the young man a fearsome glare that made him stumble backward.

  When the boy had gone, Mina whispered, “Don’t be boorish.”

  “As you once pointed out, I rather enjoy being boorish. It may be what I do best.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Selfishness, then?” He took one step closer, and Mina found herself leaning toward him.

  “Are you trying to play on my sympathy?” she whispered.

  “No, that’s not at all the emotion I wish to provoke in you.” He flicked a gaze toward the Elmhursts and lifted his fingers from her wrist. “Go be dutiful. You’re far better at it than I am.”

  Mina headed toward the mother and son, causing both to brighten with smiles, but she couldn’t resist looking back at Nick. She could feel his gaze on her, the pull of it. Of him. Every moment with him bound them closer together and every separation was becoming more difficult.

  As she stepped forward, her eyes focused on Nick, her foot snagged in the hem of her gown. She tried to correct but pitched forward. The silly heeled slippers she’d borrowed quivered as she shifted her weight. Then her right foot slid over the edge of the shoe completely.

  She cried out as her ankle twisted.

  Percy Elmhurst reeled back, lifting his arm to protect himself as she lunged forward.

  Two arms wrapped around Mina’s middle, catching her before she slammed into the young man. Air whooshed from her lungs as Nick pulled her snug against his body. Then he bent, hooked an elbow behind her knees, and swept her up into his arms.

  The incident didn’t escape the notice of the other guests. As he strode with her from the room, jaws went slack and eyes bulged. One lady flicked open her fan and began flapping the stretched fabric near her face.

  “Where are you taking me?” she asked him. “You’re making a scene.”

  “Wouldn’t it have been worse if you’d given what’s-his-name a black eye?”

  “You can put me down.”

  “Probably, but let’s get you someplace where you can breathe and try that ankle without spectators.”

  But apparently they did have a spectator.

  Colin exited the drawing room too, hurrying after them. “Is she all right?”

  “My ankle gave out. I’m sure it’s fine,” she assured before glaring at Nick. “I’ll know more when I’m allowed to walk on my own two feet.”

  Nick narrowed one eye at her as he kicked wide a half-open door along the hallway. Inside the book-lined room, he headed for a leather sofa and set her gently on the cushions.

  The room was everything Enderley’s library should have been. Warm, well-lit, and rich with the scents of book leather and old paper and ink.

  Mina looked up at two sets of concerned masculine eyes and pushed to the edge of the sofa. Her ankle screamed with pain every time she moved her right leg, but she tried to stand.

  Both Colin and Nick offered their assistance. She took her cousin’s arm to brace herself and pushed up on her left leg. And soon crumpled back onto the sofa.

  “It stings a bit, but I’m sure it’s fine.”

  “We should send for a doctor.”

  “It’s a twisted ankle, for goodness’ sakes. You’re both overreacting. Give me a minute, and I’ll be up and ready to hobble back to the drawing room.”

  “Maybe one of the guests is a doctor,” Colin said worriedly.

  “Doubtful,” Nick replied. “Iverson prefers investors and inventors. I have a physician on staff at the club. I’ll take her to him.” He spoke as if the decision had already been made. No debate. No one bothering to ask what she preferred.

  “That’s ridiculous. Mina can’t depart with you to your club on her own. Besides, isn’t the club’s doctor busy treating ailing gamblers?”

  Nick glanced at Colin, who was pacing and gnawing at his thumbnail. “Finding an available physician might take hours. My club is minutes away.”

  “Take her,” Colin finally agreed. “He can wrap her ankle and assess whether anything’s broken?”

  “I’ll see that she’s well cared for,” Nick assured him.

  “Stop talking about me as if I’m not in the room.”

  “Do you want me to accompany you?” Colin glanced from her to the doorway, and she knew he wished to be nowhere so much as back among the dinner guests speaking of threshers and industrial machinery. “You need a chaperone.”

  “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry. I trust the duke.” Though when she glanced up at Nick, the tiny smile at the edge of his mouth made her shiver.

  Colin hesitated, shot Nick as hard a look as he could manage, and finally departed. Nick helped her get to her feet.

  “Give me your arm?” she asked.

  He did one better and wrapped his arm around her waist.

  “You’ll catch me if I fall?”

  “Always,” he said without meeting her gaze.

  Mina gritted her teeth. “It hurts.”

  “Well, that won’t do.” He caught her up in
his arms again in one easy motion, as if he’d carried many women before.

  “You lift me as if I’m as light as one of Mrs. Darley’s soufflés.” She expected him to chuckle or for the tension in his jaw to ease.

  Instead, he looked at her with an intensity that made her stomach flutter.

  “You must know,” he finally said, “such a comment only invites thoughts of how you might taste.”

  Somewhere, far in the back of her mind, Mina knew she should take care. With her reputation. With her heart. A small quiet voice inside urged caution.

  But it was too late.

  She wanted everything the heat in Nick’s eyes seemed to offer.

  Chapter Nineteen

  He’d carried her away, and it was the headiest feeling Nick had ever known.

  Mina was a warm, soft, sweet-scented bounty. He loved the feel of her pressed against him, the heated weight of her in his arms. She wasn’t some fragile creature that he might break. And she didn’t shy away from his touch.

  In fact, she slid an arm around his neck and clutched his lapel possessively between her fingers.

  So he took her. Past the noisy drawing room, past the skittish housemaid who blushed at the sight of them, and past Colin Fairchild, who waved goodbye to his cousin with something akin to misery writ across his youthful face.

  Nick willed his mouth not to curve in a victorious grin. Thankfully, Mina’s gown hid the tightening in his groin.

  “You shouldn’t be enjoying this,” she whispered.

  “I know. I’m doing my best.”

  “Excuse me,” an all-too-familiar voice called from behind them. “Where exactly do you think you’re going with that young lady?”

  “He’s taking me to the doctor,” Mina answered helpfully over his shoulder.

  Bugger off, Huntley would have been Nick’s preferred reply.

  “I’m taking her to the club to see Dr. Stevens.”

  “Are you, indeed?” Huntley came around and positioned himself between them and the front door. “You are aware that women are not allowed at Lyon’s Club.”

  “Is that true?” Mina looked utterly offended by that news.

  “Miss Thorne, may I present Rhys, Earl of Huntley, who is a co-owner of Lyon’s, and also known to thwart club rules on a regular basis.”

  “A true pleasure, Miss Thorne.” Huntley twirled his hand in the air, stuck out his leg, and bowed deeply. The man never did the minimum when he could leap past sufficient and crash straight into excess.

  Nick stepped closer, until the spot where his hand that was wrapped around Mina’s knee came up flush against the man’s bright eyesore of a waistcoat. “We’ll be going now, Huntley. The lady needs a physician.”

  “Do forgive me.” Huntley stepped back. “I only meant to see to Miss Thorne’s well-being, but I see, Lyon, that you have matters well in hand.” The scoundrel tipped his gaze down to where Nick tightened his hold on Mina. Then he proceeded ahead of them and gestured toward the door. “Take my carriage. The coachman will bring it back after he delivers you.”

  With great effort, Nick managed to climb into the vehicle while keeping Mina in his arms.

  “I can sit on the bench,” she said after they were seated.

  “What if I prefer you here?” He slid a hand around her lower back to indicate how much he wanted to keep her right where she was.

  “You are warmer than the squabs, I suppose.” Her tone was teasing.

  “Practical as ever, Miss Thorne.” Nick could barely see her in the darkened interior, but he heard the hitch of her breath when he tightened his hold around her waist.

  Seated like this, the heat of her body warmed every inch of his. Her scent became richer, not just her usual floral perfume, but a deeper scent that was uniquely Mina.

  He felt her leaning closer, felt her breath whispering across his skin.

  “This reminds me of the night I came to your room.”

  “Does it?” His mouth watered for a taste of her, just as it had that night.

  “Alone with you in the darkness.” She inhaled sharply, tensing in his arms. “I don’t regret that night.” She waited, falling so silent Nick wondered if she was holding her breath. Then she finally said, “I don’t regret this moment either.”

  “Mina,” he whispered before leaning in for a kiss.

  She slid a hand around his neck. “Is the club much farther?”

  “Not far. Are you in much pain?” Nick stroked her cheek and his body hardened when she leaned into his touch, nuzzling against his fingers.

  “No, but I wonder how much time we have.”

  “Not as much as I’d like.” Nick replaced his fingers with his lips, brushing a kiss against her cheek, trailing down to the edge of her mouth.

  He had no idea where he found the control to do it, but he held back. He was determined to let her decide this moment. With a gnawing desperation, he wanted her to want him—his touch, his kiss—as much as he wanted her.

  “What exactly did you have in mind?” Nick lifted the hand he’d kept wrapped around her hip and traced his fingers along the edge of her breast.

  “So many things.” She turned her head a quarter of an inch. A tiny, maddening movement. Not enough for their lips to align, but closer, so that he felt her every breath against his mouth.

  Nick’s thighs trembled when she brushed her lips against his, but she immediately pulled away.

  He slid a hand along her jaw, desperate to kiss her again. “Are you torturing me on purpose?”

  “Of course not.”

  He wanted to take the question back. They were no longer a hairsbreadth from kissing. Now she was inches from him.

  Then she pressed two fingers to his lips, following the shape of them gently.

  “I’m memorizing,” she murmured, carefully tracing the seam of his mouth.

  Nick felt the stroke all the way to his groin.

  “I don’t want to forget after you leave.”

  Nick took her finger into his mouth, stroked the tip with his tongue, and bucked up against her when she moaned in response. “Mina.”

  She leaned in, fitted her mouth to his, and he was lost.

  All the raging need melted into pure pleasure, and the madness was he wanted to go slow, savor every second. Let Mina take the lead. He found a reserve of patience he didn’t know he possessed, his hands flexing against the small of her back while she kissed each corner of his mouth, then took his lower lip between her teeth.

  When she moved back, staring at him in the dim light of the carriage lantern, he cursed himself for a fool. She tipped her head, assessing him. Nick turned his face, pushing his scarred side into the shadows.

  Mina stroked her fingers through his hair, then down across his cheek, bumping along the edge of his scar. When she reached his chin, she nudged until he faced her again. “You’re so beautiful.”

  “The carriage is dark,” he told her. She was the beautiful one and incontrovertibly mad. “You can’t see clearly.”

  “I’ve seen you in full sunlight.”

  “Exactly. The glare obscured your view. You never got a good look.”

  “I looked very closely.” She leaned in to emphasize her point, and Nick’s skin heated everyplace her body brushed against his.

  “The pain from your ankle must be making you delirious.” He glanced toward the hem of her gown.

  “I know what I’m about. Strangely enough, I can hardly feel the pain.”

  “Good.”

  She kissed him again. Freely. Eagerly. Her mouth sweet and lush and warm against his. Fingers twined in his hair, she tasted him with her tongue, and he let her take everything. Even if he’d wished to hide or hold back, he wouldn’t have been able to. The woman tore down all his defenses.

  Too soon, the carriage stopped in front of Lyon’s.

  Mina peered out the window. “Goodness, it’s very grand.”

  A flare of pride warmed his chest. “Much better on the inside.” As he maneuvered ou
t of the carriage with Mina in his arms, she tugged at his coat.

  “What will the gentlemen say when they see you carrying me? Won’t this cause you some awful scandal?”

  “This may surprise you, but no one inside that building believes I’m a saint.” Nick didn’t dare laugh for risk of offending her, but it amused him mightily that she was more worried about his already awful reputation than her own. “Besides, we’re going in a special entrance that leads down to my private chambers.”

  A little shiver passed between them, and Nick couldn’t be sure if it was the rattle of his nerves or hers. Unlike Huntley, he’d never brought a female onto the premises of the club. His every dalliance was conducted elsewhere. Letting someone into Lyon’s private spaces was a measure of trust he’d never afforded any other woman.

  Now he found himself breathlessly eager to take Mina to the very heart of all he’d built. So eager he fumbled the key against the lock of the iron door on the side of the building. Nick knew that letting Mina inside was a step he could never take back.

  “If you put me down, it will be easier,” she said in her practical, governess-style tone.

  “You do it.” He lifted the key between them. The bit of die-cut metal was more than a means of unlocking the thick iron door. It was the means to unlocking parts of his life he shared with no one else.

  She took the key, slipped it into the lock as she held him with an arm around his neck, and twisted the latch.

  She gasped as soon as he carried her across the threshold. It was one of the evenings when a quartet of violinists and cellists performed in the dining rooms. The music was a beautiful refrain above the din of conversation and the rattle of dice.

  Through a slit in a set of dark red curtains, a slice of the main gaming floor was visible. Mina’s fixed her gaze on the spot. “Everything sparkles.”

  “I am fond of gold.”

  “But it’s so bright.”

  “Not all of it.” Nick stepped toward the curtains so Mina could get a wider view. “See that balcony up there? That’s where I sometimes work and watch the play below.”

  “So you linger in the shadows and make sure everyone else is well lit. Because you don’t trust them?”