Compromising Willa by Diana Quincy

Author:Diana Quincy
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Entangled Publishing, LLC (Scandalous)
Published: 2013-11-12T18:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

“You have terrible aim,” Addie said gaily to Race after he missed all but one pin in his first throw at Skittles.

The guests had scattered across the lawn behind the manor house. Some played croquet while others tried their hand at battlecock and shuttledore. The older guests, ensconced in comfortable chairs grouped together on the grass, sipped lemonade and watched the goings-on.

Race’s brows waggled in his rough-hewn face. “My aim is perfect when it counts—as you shall soon see.” Addie colored, but an agitated Augustus interrupted the couple’s flirtation.

“Enough nonsense. It is devil warm out here. Pray do finish your turn so we can adjourn for some lemonade.”

Race advanced on the pins for his tipping shot. The guests playing at Skittles had broken into foursomes. The sisters were paired off with Race and the earl, which Willa suspected Augustus had orchestrated. So far, the earl behaved as though yesterday’s encounter had never occurred, as if he hadn’t caught her acting the wanton with Hartwell. He’d vanished afterward, likely retiring to his neighboring estate before returning this morning to rejoin the guests. There was a certain smugness in his demeanor that unsettled her. He wasn’t behaving like a man who’d lost his long-standing battle with the duke.

Looking off across the wide expanse of lawn to where some men were engaged in target practice, Willa could make out Hartwell’s towering form next to Cam’s lean, sinewy one. Bringing her fingertips to her lips, she recalled the startling pleasure of Hart’s uncompromising mouth rubbing against hers, demanding a response. It had been starkly different from the gentle, almost deferential, way he’d kissed her after the attack at the coffee house. He was a man of contrasts and she couldn’t deny how much every side of him intrigued her.

“Willa, it is your turn,” called Addie. “Do stop your woolgathering.”

“Oh, of course.” Shaking Hart from her mind, Willa stepped forward and threw her ball at the Skittles, pouring her nervous anticipation into it. She knocked six down and moved forward for her tipping shot. Throwing from just beside the pins, she made the final throw with precise determination and succeeded in laying them all out.

Addie clapped her hands. “That was very well done.”

Race whistled low with appreciation. “You always did have a mean throw, Willa.”

“Not particularly ladylike, but it certainly did the job,” said the earl, stepping forward for his turn.

Addie scowled openly at Augustus’ rude remark, but Willa bit back a retort. Her scalp tingled at the way he looked at her, with the confident precision of a bird of prey honing in on his victim.

The earl hurled the ball in one quick, decisive stroke. Sun glistening in his blond curls, he moved with a lanky ease, knocking all of the pins over with one blow. “Behold,” he said to his brother gesturing to the downed pins, “how Skittles is correctly played.”

Race grinned. “You’ve quite unmanned me, which is very badly done of you in front of my betrothed.” He offered Addie his arm.

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