The rough promise in his voice had her wishing he’d go into more detail of what he’d like to do to her.
“Hmm.” Wickedness curled his lips. “The idea excites you. I can’t say I’m surprised. D’you think you could handle a man like me, duchess?”
The arrogant condescension in his tone seemed forced. As did the use of the nickname. Tipping her head back, she looked into his eyes—dark with desire and heavily shadowed. He spoke of lust with smug confidence while shielding his deeper thoughts and emotions from her gaze.
Was he toying with her?
The thought that he might not be feeling the same kind of intense draw and connection that she experienced whenever she was near to him—or worse, he was trying to deny it for some reason—triggered a cold rush of frustration.
He might have managed to prove a point after all. Though perhaps not the one he’d intended. Because he was right. She was ready to admit she did want something from him, but it might be far more than he was prepared to give her.
She lifted her chin as pride wrapped around her uncertainty, insulating the tender emotions he’d inspired. She cleared her throat to state in a soft but steady voice, “Why don’t we put it to the test.”
His expression revealed his momentary surprise before softening into a sensual grin. A flicker of anticipation lit his gaze. Her breath caught sharply when he slid his hand around her nape in a possessive, masterful grip as though to position her for his mouth.
She almost lost her nerve then as more heat swirled between them. Rich and deep and altering.
“Teach me to fight.” The words flew from her lips in a rush, effectively bringing a stop to whatever he’d intended to do next.
His entire body became still and tense while his smile tightened into a line. “You want me to train you?”
She decided not to think of how much the roughness in his voice pleased her. She intended to throw him off and she’d succeeded, but desire still roared through him.
“I know you’re teaching Frederick.”
He looked surprised. “You do?”
“Of course. I know everything that occurs in this house. I think it’s a wonderful idea and I’d also like to learn how to defend him—and myself—in case the need should arise.”
His tawny brows lowered in a scowl. “The need won’t arise. I’ll protect you.”
“It’s best to prepare for all contingencies.”
His hand tightened around the back of her neck, sending waves of awareness through her body. It wasn’t an unpleasant sensation to feel herself at his mercy even in that small way.
Then the corner of his mouth twisted upward. “We’re back to arguing, then?”
“Did we ever truly stop?”
In an instant, his expression shifted back to sensual as he leaned close enough for her to feel the breath of his whispered words against her cheek. “Yes, we did.”
Straightening, he stepped back while releasing his hand from her nape. With his gaze holding hers, he grasped her hips in his hands and lifted her from the table to set her on her feet. Something unreadable glittered in his eyes as his lips tilted in a familiar smirk. “Tomorrow morning, then. Eleven o’clock.” His gaze swept over her again from head to toe. “Wear something you can move around in.”
Her legs shook as he turned away and strode across the room. The muscles in his back bunched and released with every step until he reached his shirt where he’d tossed it to the floor. Lifting the garment over his head, he shrugged it back on.
Smoothing her skirts over her legs, she turned away from the sight of him and left the ballroom with trembling knees and a tense jaw. Her body still pulsed and tingled with the sensations he’d aroused in her. The aching in her core was a longing for something she was afraid to fully name. She wasn’t sure if she’d done the right thing by diverting his focus from lovemaking to fighting. All she’d known was that if he continued to kiss her and touch her, she would have given herself to him completely.
While he would have held himself back.
Not in the act, perhaps, but in himself. And she wasn’t sure she could accept that.
Chapter Twenty-one
Mason stood with his shoulders resting against the wall next to the enormous fireplace in the ballroom. His arms were crossed over his chest and one leg was bent with his bare foot planted against the polished mahogany wainscoting. Though there was an unsettled feeling in his gut, his gaze was hard and focused on the open double doors on the far end of the room as he waited for Lady Katherine’s arrival.
He’d finished with Frederick and then the others more than an hour ago. After that, he’d gone back to his room for a bath and change of clothes. He wasn’t going to touch Lady Katherine with the sweat of other men on his skin.
There was a good chance the woman wouldn’t even show up.
Rolling his shoulders, he tried to dispense the tension that gathered every time he recalled last night’s conversation. And the kissing.
Just thinking of how she’d felt in his arms, her thighs parted around his hips, her mouth tender and sweet beneath his, sent a rush of throbbing heat to his aching groin.
He’d known from the start that the obvious physical attraction between them would eventually have to be dealt with. He’d looked forward to it.
He’d also completely underestimated it.
When he’d finished his training regimen last night to find her staring at him with those dark, fathomless eyes, her lips parted and glistening, her lovely breasts rising and falling with weighted breaths—he’d simply lost all restraint.
The feel of her eyes on him all hot and intense made
