Misleading a Duke. A.S. Fenichel

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      “She is the one I know best. I could not dislike her despite my desire to do so after finding out about the spying.” He shook his head, a pleasant grin transforming him and making him breathtaking.

      “Poppy is fearless. Well, that’s not exactly true. She may fear a thing, but she never lets that fear stop her. In fact, I think when she finds herself afraid of something, she immediately sets out to climb that mountain.”

      Nick offered his hand as he stood. “And what of you, Faith? Are you brave?”

      Accepting his offer, she stood and, hand wrapped in his, they walked through the flowers and plants being kept vibrant out of season, for their delight. Several full-grown orange trees had been potted and bore fruit inside the warm environment. “No. I am afraid of many things and not nearly as brave as Poppy. She never conforms to make anyone happy. It is marvelous.”

      He wrapped her hand around his arm while keeping his hand atop hers. “I think you underestimate yourself. There is nothing wrong with wanting to please people.”

      “Perhaps.” Though she doubted the truth of it. She did manage to get her own way most times. After all, she had stolen away from the city to lure Nick to a secluded castle, and they were getting to know each other. Mother and Father would be apoplectic if they knew.

      “What about Aurora? Do you admire some trait of hers?”

      “Most people would say her beauty is her most appealing trait.” Faith shook her head. “They would be wrong. I mean to say, Aurora is quite beautiful. She is perfectly formed with good height, while not too tall or short, and her figure is perfectly balanced. She has exactly what society looks for in a lady. Perhaps that is why she manages to make the ton think she is just like them. Maybe that is why she could hide what Radcliff did to her. She is the strongest person I’ve ever known. No amount of horror changed her from the wonderful person she is. Radcliff couldn’t break her spirit and, by God, he tried.”

      “Then it is her strength of character that you admire?” Nick wound them around another small grove of orange trees potted near the back of the building. They were only there to keep warm until spring when they would be dragged back outside to flourish and produce flowers.

      “Yes. Aurora never wavers.” Her friend was like a golden statue, always the same. Always dependable.

      “That’s good, because if it was her figure, I would have to tell you that while Lady Radcliff is lovely, your figure is spectacular. Every curve begs for a man to look and touch.” He said the last in a sultry voice.

      Her insides quivered with the satisfaction of knowing he liked the way she looked. She was not what the ton admired, but his wanting to touch her made up for the slights she had endured over the years. “My mother would beg to differ. She prayed I would get my figure from her side of the family, but I am much like my grandmother on my father’s side.”

      “I would not wish to disagree with your mother, so I will stay silent on the matter. Is your grandmother still alive?” He changed the subject.

      Nodding, she thought of Grandmother. “She lives in Sussex. I visit when I can. She is funny and brazen in many ways. She and I have always gotten along famously.”

      “I should like to meet her.” They rounded the front of the hothouse, but Nick turned them inward away from the glass wall and through a forest of tropical trees. “That leaves Mercedes.”

      “Mercy, like Grandmother, uses humor to barrel through any situation. I don’t know how she manages it, but she finds something funny in nearly every moment of life. I also wish I could play any instrument as well as she plays no less than six.”

      “Six?” He stopped and faced her.

      “Oh yes. At last count, she had mastered pianoforte, harp, flute, clarinet, lute, and some stringed instrument that her aunt had brought in from Spain. I love the sound of that one. It’s low and sensual somehow.” She blushed at her own musings. “Do you know it?”

      Pulling her to a stop, he faced her, cradling her face in his hands. “It’s called a guitar and it can be quite sensual, as you said. I met a man in Porto who played so well, the ladies swooned.”

      Unable and not wanting to look away, she moistened her dry lips. “I have never swooned, but I think I would like to hear him play.”

      “Perhaps one day we will journey to Porto in better times.” Leaning down to her height, he pressed his lips to hers.

      Making no demands, he just let their lips touch.

      Faith sighed against his mouth. She hadn’t even known she was waiting for his kiss, but she would never have enough. Wrapping her hand around his neck and lifting on her toes, she pulled them closer together. Her entire body quivered with need for more of him.

      Nick’s arms wrapped around her and pulled her tight against his chest, nearly lifting her off her feet.

      She gasped and he plundered her mouth with his tongue. The outside world disappeared into obscurity and there was only Nick and his glorious mouth making her want more than a nice lady should, but she didn’t care.

      Feeling his desire pressed hard against her, she tightened to him. Her center pulsed for contact, hoping he felt the same and satisfied when he groaned in pleasure.

      He traced from her jaw, down her neck to her shoulder, and each kiss set her more aflame.

      “Nick.” The voice coming from her was unfamiliar, filled with passion and need.

      “Good Lord, Faith. Say it again.” He trailed a path of kisses back up to just behind her ear.

      Her knees buckled, but he held her in place. “Nick,” she repeated obediently.

      Crushing her to him, he nuzzled her hair. “You will be the death of me. I don’t know how it happened, but I have completely forgotten how angry you made me and can think only of your sweetness.”

      She laughed against his chest. “My sweetness is fleeting. I’m just glad I had Thea keep Rumple in the kitchen. Lord only knows what he would think of this.”

      Smiling down at her, he brushed a wayward hair back from her forehead. “Everything is a game to a puppy.”

      As she drew a deep breath, she shuddered. There was an intensity in the air around them that prickled her skin. She took a step out of his arms. “You mentioned your parents. I know your father has passed, since you are duke. What about your mother, are you close with her?”

      “Sadly, Mother did not survive the year after Father died.” His solemn reply spoke of a man who’d admired his parents.

      “I’m very sorry. Was theirs a love match then?” It was so strange to hear of dukes being deeply in love with their wives. Most married to have children and increase their standing either financially or politically. They kept love at arm’s length. The majority took mistresses as well. Her stomach heaved and she fought down the disgust.

      Nick reached out and took her hand. “They loved each other, but the marriage was arranged. They were married quite young and had known each other as children. My sister, Countess of Dunworth, is older by three years. She tells me they were always touching and kissing even when she was small.”

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