Page 53 of How to Capture a Duke

“Yes, we can!” Alexander cried.

“We don’t have an extra hoop and stick,” Catherine pointed out.

“We don’t need one if we are to race in teams. The children shall race to the middle of the garden, then your auntie and I shall take over until the end,” Tristan said.

Olivia eyed him speculatively. “It will make it extra challenging for the hoops not to fall down.”

Tristan arched a dark eyebrow. “Are you reneging?”

She raised her chin. “Never.”

His infectious grin was devastating. When had her husband become so charming? Was this the same man who’d stared her down in the stables of Rosehill and accused her of treachery? He didn’t look at all angry or aloof—two emotions she’d become accustomed to from him—but much more amicable and likable.

Her heart skipped a beat, and a tangle of fear and emotion knotted in her chest.

He walked to the terrace and motioned to where the stone ended and the grass began. “We shall start here.”

Alexander and Catherine lined up. Catherine looked determined. Alexander chewed his bottom lip.

Once more, Tristan knelt by the boy. “Keep it upright and look ahead to the middle of the yard. I’ll be with you the entire way.”

Alexander bravely nodded as he clutched his hoop.

The children set their hoops upright with one hand and held their sticks ready in the other.

“Ready. Set. Go!” Tristan shouted.

The children were off, driving their hoops forward with their sticks across the grass as fast as they could. Catherine, a year older, was slightly in the lead. Both Tristan and Olivia were by their teammate’s sides, cheering them on. When Alexander’s hoop began to wobble, threatening to fall, Tristan gave quick advice. “Keep driving it with your stick.”

At the halfway point, both hoops wobbled and fell. Laughing, Olivia and Tristan picked them up and were off. Olivia took advantage of Catherine’s slight lead and used her stick to drive the hoop toward the finish line. From the corner of her eye, she saw Tristan catching up, his long legs making up the distance.

Excitement coursed through her veins, and she renewed her efforts. The finish line was close in sight, and the excited shouts of the children filled the garden. She ran faster and faster. She would win!

At the last moment, Tristan overcame her, and his hoop crossed the finish line before hers. Olivia’s hoop wavered and collided with his. She would have fallen along with it if Tristan hadn’t grasped her around the waist to steady her. For a brief moment, she was hauled against his muscular chest like a mainstaff.

Her breathing was ragged from her run as she looked up at him. Awareness thundered through her at the smoldering intensity in his gaze. She could see that he was hungry for contact. For her or for what had just occurred in the garden with the children? His loneliness and need struck a chord deep within her breast. What must it be like to live in isolation, never to desire to grow closer to someone? Pressed against him, she grew aware of his heat and strength, and flames licked along her skin.

The invisible web of attraction that had been building between them tightened and strengthened, and his gaze dropped to her mouth. Heavens, he looked like he was about to kiss her.

Was he going to kiss her?

“We won!” Alexander ran toward them.

In a flash, the trance between them was broken, and he released her.

The little boy threw himself into Tristan’s arms. Tristan picked him up and spun him around. “We did. And all because I had a wonderful partner.”

Olivia watched, fascinated, as the duke once again changed into a warm, captivating man. It had been like this when she’d first seen him alone with Catherine in his study. He hadn’t been upset the girl had wandered away from the dining room and into his private domain. Not only had he not been angry, he’d given her a toy that had been a gift from his mother.

And now, he seemed happy.

Warmth rushed through her, and she found herself studying him, to see what he would do next.

Alexander’s face beamed. “Do I really get a toy train?”

“As promised,” Tristan said.

Catherine pouted. “It wasn’t fair. Your legs are longer than Auntie Olivia’s. How was she to win?”