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But he wouldn’t do that. He’s a Duke. My family is noble. There are conventions to adhere to.
My mother straightens up. “Your Grace…” She glances at me, frowning ever so slightly. “To what do we owe the honor?”
“Ah,” the Duke replies, his soft lips curving. I want to kiss them again. I want to taste his tongue against mine and curl my fingers into his shirt. He glances at me. “I thought Lady Belcourt would have told you. I offered to show her the last piano my parents built before they”—he clears his throat—“before they passed. She had expressed interest in seeing it at the Christmas ball last weekend.”
“Oh.” My mother’s eyebrows jump.
A flush rips up my neck and bursts into flame over my cheeks. I hate that I’m blushing right now. I’m a young woman in my mid-twenties. I shouldn’t be blushing because a man wants to spend time with me.
But he’s not just a man, and I’m not just a young woman. There are conventions in our society, and this visit is…unusual. Or at least, it’s unexpected.
My father nods. “Well, we won’t keep you. Do you need us to send a car, Ada?”
I shake my head. “That won’t be necessary, Father.”
The Duke extends his arm, and I slide my hand into the crook of his elbows. As soon as I touch him, a rush of heat spins through my insides. He’s close enough to smell. To feel the heat of his body. To remember what it felt like to be naked together.
When we get to the front door, Heath helps me put a jacket on, smiling as I stuff a woolen hat over my ears. Richard, now wearing white gloves and a crisp jacket he hadn’t been wearing before, bows to us and opens the front door. The Duke’s hand materializes on my lower back as he leads me to the car, and another thrill rushes down through my thighs.
I like the way he touches me. Gentlemanly. Chastely. Appropriately—but as a constant reminder of what those hands felt like when they sank into my thighs and pulled me close. A sleek silver vehicle gleams in our driveway. Every part of it is shiny and clean, and I wonder how he managed to keep it that way while driving through the snowy, slushy streets.
Heath opens the car door for me, his eyes flicking down to my lips. At some point he slipped leather gloves over his hands, and I watch the way the fabric stretches when he curls his fingers over the top of the door. Every detail makes my body wind tighter. Every hint of his delicious male scent. Every blink of his thick, dark lashes. Every gaze that drifts over my face, my body—it all sends me into a tailspin.
When the Duke closes my door and walks around the front of the vehicle, his steps are steady and measured. He holds his chest high as his arms hang loosely by his sides. He walks as if he owns the world. Like he knows people would show him deference and give him whatever he wanted.
How could they not? The man exudes power.
When Heath slips into the car, he flashes a smile at me and I go soft around the middle. Every smile feels like a secret that he only shares with me. Letting my lips curl gently, I fiddle with the edge of my hat.
“Ready?”
“I can’t believe I’ll be going to the Blythe Estate,” I say, letting my smile stretch wider. “I feel like I’ve been blessed by some higher power.”
“No higher power.” Heath chuckles. “Just me.” Putting the car in gear, he starts to drive. The seat warms beneath me, and soon I’m unbuttoning my jacket and pulling my hat off my head. In the closeness of the vehicle, I feel the Duke’s presence everywhere. It’s like his energy expands to fill any space he’s in. He’s magnetic.
I can sense every movement of his body over the pedals, the gear shift, the steering wheel. When did driving a car become sexy? He’s relaxed and in control, and it reminds me of the way he made love to me. Like it comes naturally to him.
When we turn off down a country road and come up to a set of tall gates, I shift in my seat, peering through the windshield.
“Looking for truckloads of women being delivered?” Heath doesn’t hide the grin in his voice.
I throw him a glance. “Please.”
He rewards me another panty-melting smile. Is it the heated seat that’s making me so hot? Or is it just him?
Dusk is falling all around us, throwing warm colors across the sky. In front of us, a huge mansion is silhouetted against the sunset. My heart thumps.
As far as I know, no guest has been here in months. Years, maybe. The Duke hasn’t attended any official events apart from the Christmas ball, and hasn’t received anyone from society here since his parents passed away. The estate has basically been cut off from all outside eyes. Curiosity burns in my stomach.
I’m worse than Kiera.
We park in a large garage, where an attendant appears at my door. Dressed in a crisp uniform, he opens the door for me and bows, helping me out of the car.
Heath tosses him the keys, glances at me, and jerks his head toward the door. “This way.”
Once inside the house, another member of staff appears, helping me out of my jacket. Everything happens quickly. Efficiently. The staff seems well-trained and well-practiced. It’s not until the man taking my jacket gives me a curious glance that I realize this situation is unusual.
“Come,” Heath says, extending his hand.
