If I Only Had a Duke by Lenora Bell

Author:Lenora Bell
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2016-08-30T04:00:00+00:00

Dalton clenched his fork, attempting to ignore her and failing miserably.

She shook out her hair, and the firelight teased it into flame.

Despite his best efforts to relegate her to that part of his mind reserved for Problems, Perils, and Plagues, he found her too desirable, and too intriguing.

Her conversation sparked with wit, and a natural, easy sensuality infused her every movement.

He admired her courage as well. Defying her fire-breathing dragon of a mother and leaving her safe, cosseted life behind was a very brave thing.

“Oh, look,” she said, lifting the lid off the last silver dish. “Trifle!” She dipped her finger into the dessert in a decidedly unladylike fashion and then . . . oh, God, then she licked her finger.

And Dalton was lost. Maybe they could sleep together on the same bed. Have just a taste of fun. Not too much.

“Mmm,” she said, closing her eyes. “Sponge cake.” She licked her finger again. “Apricot jam. Sweet cream flavored with sweet wine.” She licked the last morsel away. “A hint of lemon, and frothy egg whites. Luscious.”

She was luscious. Her eyes closed, her cheeks flushed from the whiskey and the heat of the fire. Those apricot and lemon curls spreading across the red velvet back of the chair.

She scooped a spoonful of trifle directly from the dish. “I’m going to devour this.”

The trifle, he amended for the benefit of his ever-ready and ever-hopeful prick.

“Oh, that is . . . there are no words.” She took another bite and this time her eyeballs fluttered beneath her eyelids.

Did the woman have to act like the trifle was bringing her to ecstasy? “I gather you like it,” he said harshly.

“It’s perfect.” She frowned. “You don’t want any? You really should try it.” She took another bite and her tongue darted out to catch a stray bit of fluffy egg whites.

His cock danced hopefully.

“Here.” She scooped up a gooey bite of trifle and held it out to him. “Please try some.”

He shut his lips tightly. “I don’t like trifle.”

“Have you ever tried trifle?”

“No.”

“Just one bite.”

And that’s how all the trouble in the world began. He had to open his mouth, if only because of the fact that she held the bite toward his lips and he wanted to taste something she offered . . . even if it was only her spoon.

She took another sip of whiskey and giggled softly.

“What’s so humorous?” he asked.

“Remember when I walked on your back? ‘Harder, Olofsson,’ you said. ‘Do your worst.’”

“I remember,” Dalton said. “How could I forget?”

“And then, you should have seen the look on your face when you realized it was me and not Olofsson. You wanted to strangle me.”

His frown only made her giggle harder.

“I think you’ve had enough.” He reached for her glass but she pulled it away and swallowed the rest in one gulp.

“If you only could have seen your expression.”

“I see myself every morning in the glass and that’s quite enough,” he growled.

She laughed harder. “Admit it was funny.”

“It may have been.” He was trying to hide a smile but it broke through anyway.

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