Dukes to the Left of Me, Princes to the Right

He felt himself getting angry. “Yes, it’s so.”

She shrugged. “You could have fooled me.”

“I’m taking a massive risk this evening,” he said, “and you no longer care?”

“Why should I?”

“Because you wanted to help me take it.”

She put a delicate hand on her hip. “Why should you be concerned what I think? You threw me over, so the way I see it, I’m no longer your fiancée. My life is none of your business.”

“You’re right to be angry about Natasha. But all that happened before I met you.”

Her emerald eyes blazed. “You told me to trust you. I did. I trusted you with my heart. I told you I was a Spinster. That I deserved respect. That I would settle for nothing less than love. Yet love doesn’t interest you, does it, Drummond? You used me, the same way you apparently used Natasha.”

And she strode off.

“Wait a bloody minute,” he called after her. “I didn’t throw you over. I told you I’d marry you. You were the one who said you were going to get out of our arrangement, no matter what.”

But she ignored him.

The scamp.

She looked luscious in that gown. He was angry with her and mesmerized by her all at the same time. He wanted her.

Dammit, he didn’t only want her. He loved Lady Poppy Smith-Barnes—every annoying, charming, delicious inch of her.

Why had it taken him so long to figure that out?

He caught up with her again. She yanked her arm back and tried to get away, but he wouldn’t let her. Instead, he looked her up and down, soaking in her beauty, but, even more, her strong spirit. “I’m not going to marry Natasha. I couldn’t possibly have fathered her child. Whatever you hear tonight, don’t believe it.”

“That’s your concern, not mine,” she said stoutly.

The little spitfire. How he craved her good opinion again!

She pushed an index finger on his chest. “Lord Eversly has asked me to marry him.” Her tone was defiant. “And I’m to give him my answer before the first waltz.”

Everything seemed to stop.

“Don’t marry him,” Nicholas said right away. “Remain a spinster—a luscious, fiery Spinster—and wait for a man who’s worthy of you. However long it takes.”

It wasn’t he. Not yet.

But it would be.

He would prove himself worthy.

He had no choice but to trust her to wait and believe he was the only man for her. It was the hardest thing he’d ever done, but he turned and walked away again, and all the while he was thinking of her, not of his duty.

He must think of her. He would think of her right now. In fact, he intended to think about her—and eat with her and sleep with her and frolic with her—for the rest of their lives.

Because they’d be together.

Happily married.

His duty to the Service and his obligation to Operation Pink Lady were important, yes. They had their place in the great scheme of things. But he had a higher duty to live the life he was meant to live. And an even greater duty to his heart. He was still going to retrieve the painting, but now he’d do it for Poppy. Forget the MR and to hell with Groop’s orders.

Operation Get Poppy Back was officially under way.

CHAPTER 44

“Nicholas!” Poppy called after him. She could hardly breathe.

He turned around for a split second and they locked eyes.

“I want to remind you of something you once told me.” Her hands trembled, so she grabbed bunches of her gown. “You said taking chances is part of the fun—what makes life exciting. You like surprises, don’t you?”

“Of course.” His mouth curved up. “They keep one on one’s toes.”

“Don’t forget that,” she advised him.

“Don’t you forget, either.” He gave her a mock bow and disappeared into the crowd.

“Oh, I won’t!” she yelled, and hopped on her toes to get a last look at him in his normal state of utterly confident complacency.

Because he was going to get quite a surprise. He had no idea how big, but it was huge.

Huge!

She couldn’t wait to tell him the whole thing, but she’d decided to tell him the first part tonight and save the rest for later—if there was a later.

A later that involved disrobing, especially.

She hoped there’d be a later, but how could there be?

He hadn’t asked her to marry him when she’d told him about Eversly’s proposal.

He’d simply told her to wait.

For what?

For him?

If so, why hadn’t he asked her to wait for him outright?

She bit the tip of her finger. Perhaps she was supposed to read between the lines. He was a secret agent, after all, and she was a brilliant decoder.

Or could it have been her overactive, fanciful imagination attributing all sorts of lovely thoughts to him that simply didn’t exist?

No more fairy tales, she’d told herself. And here she was indulging in them again.

Natasha came up to her and raked her with a scornful glance. “You told me long ago you’d be here with your future husband. And that you would kiss him in front of all the company. But you certainly look all alone and invisible to me.”

“I don’t think so,” said Poppy, “or you wouldn’t be so concerned about putting me in my place.”

The princess gasped. “I have your so-called future husband. He’s mine, and my brother is about to make the official announcement. You might want to leave.”

She gave a simpering little laugh.

“I refuse to give you the satisfaction,” Poppy replied with a toss of her head. “In fact, I plan to be front and center when that announcement is made.”

She turned her back on the princess, only to see Lord Eversly approaching, a hopeful light in his eyes. “Lady Poppy! How good it is to see you.”

She forced herself to smile. “Hello, Eversly.”

He took her elbow and, in the kindest, gentlest manner possible, led her to a corner. “I must know your answer now. We’re about to have the first waltz, and of course, I want to dance it with you. And then soon we shall have our own ball to make our betrothal announcement.”

She looked at him, her heart beating hard, and shook her head. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “My answer has to be no. You’re a wonderful man, and I do hope you’ll find a woman who appreciates you. But I’m sorry—I can’t be the one.”

His sweet expression dissolved into disappointment, which tore at her heart.

“It’s still the Duke of Drummond you love, isn’t it?” he whispered.

She nodded. “I know it’s impossible.”