Page 24 of The Mistletoe Dare

“Of course. Dinner at Beverwyck is always a work of art.”

“The company helps, of course.”

There was no sarcasm, not a hint of mockery in his words, but Georgie’s cheeks burned all the same. “Of course,” she returned with a tight smile.

“Do you think he appreciates his good fortune?”

Georgie forced herself to look at the duke then, wondering if he smirking again, but no. Although the scar tugged at his lip as always, his expression was curious.

“I’m not certain,” Georgie replied. “Perhaps his beauty is as much a burden as your scar.”

Rochford snorted at that, clearly unconvinced. “Yes, it must be terrible, having women fall at your feet without lifting a finger.”

He levelled what she could only describe as an accusing gaze at her, and Georgie stared back at him, refusing to be further embarrassed. So, she found the comte beautiful. Who didn’t? Well, apart from Evie, apparently.

“Perhaps it becomes tedious, never knowing if people truly like you, but only want to be with you for your pretty face?” she suggested. “At least if someone spends time with you, your grace, you know it is because they wish to. Oh, wait… no. I forgot. You think everyone is after your money and your title. If you’ll excuse me….”

Georgie turned away, appalled at herself. She must put some distance between them before she said anything truly reprehensible.

Strong fingers grasped hers, tugging her to a halt. Georgie glanced around, wondering if anyone had seen, but her skirts hid their hands from view, and he hadn’t let go. She couldn’t breathe. Her heart simply could not keep up this demented speed. It would explode.

“Did I not apologise for insulting you so?” he asked sounding a little impatient.

“It’s so hard to remember. There have been so many things to apologise for,” she replied tartly, though her mind was consumed with the fact he was still holding her hand and showed no sign of releasing her.

“Only two, surely.”

“There was only one apology,” she said, glaring at him, though she still hadn’t pulled her hand free. Why hadn’t she done that?

Why haven’t you done that, Georgie? You are furious with him. He’s an obnoxious arse.

Remember?

“Two apologies,” he corrected, and her breath hitched as his thumb caressed her palm.

“T-Two?” she stammered, finding it harder and harder to concentrate on the thread of the conversation.

“I came to the party for you, didn’t I?”

She blinked up at him. “That wasn’t an apology.”

“Yes. It was.”

Oh.

“Goodnight, Lady Georgina.”

He released her hand and left her standing by herself. Georgie stared at her palm, half expecting to see a mark, a burn, as if his touch had scalded her. Good heavens. What on earth had that been about? Had that been an apology, too? Or had he simply not liked the idea she might have been thinking about the Comte de Villen and not him? Oh, good Lord! Did he know she’d been thinking about him? How ghastly. Georgie put her hands to her cheeks, wishing she did not blush quite so easily. She had her mother to thank for that.

“Whatever did he say to you?” Georgie looked up to see Rosamund staring at her with wide eyes.

“Who?” Georgie replied defensively, which was clearly an idiotic thing to say in the circumstances. A fact reinforced by the look Ozzie send her in reply.

“I-I hardly know,” Georgie said apologetically, unable to dissemble with her friend and too bewildered to try.

“Oooh, was he flirting with you? He looked awfully intense.”

“Of course not. He always looks that way,” Georgie said absently… or had he been flirting with her? The touch of his thumb stroking her palm reverberated in her memory, making her flush. That had to be flirtatious, but… but surely….