Page 20 of If the Duke Demands

His eyes flared, and a deep heat flickered in their depths. “Make no mistake.” He took a single step toward her, suddenly reminding her of the predatory panther from last night as he closed the distance between them until he could whisper in her ear simply by lowering his head. “I most certainly do know how to enjoy myself.” His husky voice poured through her like a warm summer rain as his hot breath tickled against her ear. “A few more masked minutes last night, and you would have discovered exactly how much.”

She shivered, an unexpected tingle flaring low in her belly. Her breath hitched in her throat, and for a moment, she couldn’t move. Didn’twantto move. What she wanted was another one of those low, throaty whispers of his, another rush of liquid heat through her body landing rightthere, in that private place between her legs. He’d clearly meant his words as a warning, but her foolish body heard an aching promise. From Sebastian, of all men.

Oh Lord—she’d gone mad!

Her slipper still rested in his hand. She made a grab for it, wanting nothing more than to seize it and run, but he jerked it higher just as her fingertips brushed against it.

Propelled forward by the force of her lunge, she fell against him. Her body pressed only briefly against the front of his, but long enough to feel the hard muscles of his chest and thighs against her softness. Long enough that his free arm rose up to encircle her waist and catch her, holding her against him. Long enough for her to remember the warmth of his caressing hands on her hips and breasts, the delicious heat of his mouth on her body—

She shuddered at the electrifying contact and pushed herself away, retreating quickly to put several paces between them.

“I’ll agree to the terms of our deal,” she whispered, her eyes never leaving his despite the frantic pounding of her heart. Did he have this same effect on other women, this same unsettling pulse of confusion whenever they came too close? The same flash of fear that they might lose themselves in him? If so, then he needed her help in finding a wife more than he realized. Obviously, the man didn’t know the first thing about how to behave around women.

Wordlessly, he held out the slipper.

Taking it from his hand, careful not to accidentally touch him, she hid it in her jacket pocket. “And its mate?”

“I’m holding it hostage.”

Dread sank through her. “Hostage?”

He nodded, his blond hair shining golden in the sunlight beneath the brim of his beaver hat. “I’ll use it to reveal your feelings for Robert if you don’t hold up your end of our bargain.”

“You wouldn’t!” she gasped. Telling Robert how she felt about him had to be done at the right time, in the right way. Being shown proof that she’d been in his brother’s bedroom, accidentally or not, was certainlynotthe right way.

He quirked up a brow in challenge, leaning toward her to bring his eyes level with hers. “Blackmail isn’t just for Chinese vases.”

Her mouth fell open at his audacity, her hands clenching into fists at her sides as her eyes darted toward the wooden sword, now hopelessly out of reach. “You are the most infuriating man who—”

“Who currently possesses your slipper, Lady Rose.” At that, he moved back a single step, just far enough to be out of punching range. And rightly so, since he was the one who taught her fisticuffs when she was ten. “You’ll get it back when I’ve found a bride and the marriage offer has been accepted. Not a moment before.”

She arched a dubious brow. “And you won’t renege on your promise to help me with Robert?”

“I’ll help however I can.” His eyes softened sympathetically. “But I cannot control his heart.”

She glowered at him, knowing she had no choice but to agree. Not if she wanted Robert to fall in love with her. No wonder Sebastian excelled so brilliantly in Parliament if this was how he maneuvered his opponents.

“All right,” she forced out grudgingly. “We’re agreed, then?”

“We’re agreed.” He gave her a slow, confident smile.

Miranda stared at him, a riot of emotions bubbling inside her. She’d gotten exactly what she wanted—his help with Robert. So why did she feel as if she’d just struck a deal with the devil?

CHAPTERFOUR

Mayfair, London

One Wintry Month Later

Miranda stared through the window at the grand town house that fronted the wide, tree-lined avenue and somehow kept her mouth from falling open in utter astonishment.

“We’ve arrived,” Elizabeth Carlisle announced from the seat beside her in the carriage that had carried them for the past several days all the way from Lincolnshire. She leaned over to give Miranda a welcoming squeeze of her hand. “Park Place.”

“Thank God,” Robert muttered as he leaned forward on the bench across from them, where he had spent most of the trip slumped in sleep.

Miranda barely heard his grumbling, her attention rapt on the beautiful house. Four stories high and six bays wide, the house sat right upon the avenue, its red Georgian brick contrasting with its freshly painted white trim and tall portico. It was so much more inviting than those other houses they’d passed as they’d driven the last stretch of the trip by Hyde Park. Those houses, which sat back from the street behind wrought-iron fences, were grand, truly, but they held an air of arrogant inapproachability, while Park Place was inviting, bright…simply perfect.

So was London, every last filthy, congested, smelly inch of it. Oh, it was fabulous! They’d ridden for over two hours through the city, giving her wonderful views of the Thames and the dome of St Paul’s, the imposing Tower and the narrow warren of streets and alleys in the City that gave way to the wider roads and avenues as they drove on west toward Mayfair with its tree-lined streets, beautiful open squares, and grand town houses. She’d never seen anything like it. It took her breath away.