Dare to Love a Duke. Eva Leigh

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      She turned the kiss more demanding and ravenous. He responded at once, sweeping his tongue into her mouth with velvet strokes. She sank into the sensation. The man knew how to kiss a woman. He clearly took pleasure from the act itself, rather than rush it toward another destination. She took from him hungrily, as he gave her himself, deep and rich and lush.

      I don’t want to take another stranger to my bed, that voice within her interjected. Who is he, truly?

      Stai zitta, she mentally hissed back. Don’t muddle things. They’re complicated enough.

      She moved deeper into her room, needing to hurry toward the raw, purely physical needs of her body as if she could outpace her thoughts. He followed. After pausing briefly to light a candle, she let her hands roam over his body, and, che bello, he felt magnificent, solid and firm with tightly hewn muscle that shifted powerfully beneath her touch. This was all she needed to know—that he was beautifully made and could give her physical release.

      If she wanted more, if she craved the comfort one soul could give another, she’d lock that craving away, where it couldn’t hurt her.

      His large hands caressed her everywhere, sweeping along the curves of her arse, cupping her hips, skimming up over her waist. Heat tore through her, turning her liquid and pliable.

      The back of her dress dipped low, baring the skin between her shoulder blades, and she jolted with pleasure as he stroked her flesh there.

      He cupped her breasts, and sparks tumbled through her entire body. She arched up into his touch. His growl resounded low within her, speaking directly to her need for the purely carnal.

       Yes, just this. Only this.

      His rumble grew deeper when he plucked her nipples into tight points, making her moan.

      This was perfect. This was precisely what she needed. The fall into pleasure, heedless of everything but desire. Tomorrow didn’t matter—nothing mattered but now.

      It’s not enough, that infuriating voice insisted. What of your heart? What of the bond between two souls? I want that.

      There was no way to escape her own demands, much as she tried to silence them.

      “Too many clothes,” he muttered. He edged back slightly and moved to pull off his coat.

      “Wait,” she heard herself say.

      He froze in midmotion. “You want me to stop?”

      “Yes—but no.” She drew a shuddering breath. Don’t say it. “I need more.”

       Madonna santa!

      His gaze sharpened. “Anything.”

      “I want . . .” She could not stop the words as they tumbled from her lips. “Give me one truth about you.”

      “A truth,” Tom said slowly as he struggled to make sense of what she’d asked. He lowered his hands.

      Amina spoke in a rush, as if trying to get every syllable out before she thought better of it.

      “Not your identity. That remains hidden. But tell me something about yourself.”

      “Why?” He pushed against the wall of his confusion. This was not what they had agreed upon.

      “What does it matter?” Her words were almost sharp. “We’ll not see each other again after tonight.”

      “Yet to speak of such things goes contrary to your established rules.”

      He tested his own response to her request and found . . . welcome acceptance. Finding a stranger to fuck was easy enough. He’d taken others to bed within minutes of meeting, with them knowing nothing about who he was or knowledge of what he feared or desired in the hidden recesses of his heart. Hell, there had been more than a few times his bed partners hadn’t even known his name.

      It hadn’t mattered to him then. But the chance to have Amina discover more about himself felt as though he’d waded into a warm ocean, becoming more and more buoyant with each step.

      For a moment, she was silent.

      “I’ve had lovers before. Always, I made certain to keep them essentially strangers. You and I, we’re destined to walk away from one another, but . . .”

      He’d never heard her sound uncertain, not once, and yet she spoke as if testing out her thoughts that were unknown, even to herself.

      “But . . . ?” he prompted.

      She tilted up her chin as if in defiance. “I want this to be different. I want you to be different.”

      So—he wasn’t the only one invested in their two-person planetary system.

      What she suggested was a risk, yet secrecy was her stock-in-trade.

      They’d part with the dawn, leaving him only with memories of physical sensation. Yet to have her learn about him wasn’t enough. He hungered for anything about her, small, gleaming pieces that he could hold tight to in decades to come.

      “One condition.”

      She gazed at him warily. “Tell me your terms.”

      “In exchange for my truth, I want the same from you.”

      Behind her mask, her eyes went round.

      His pulse throbbed. It was a gamble, demanding this from her. Much as he wanted her and the pleasures of her body, there was a chasm within him that demanded a deeper knowledge of this extraordinary woman. Perhaps he might not know the secrets of her mind and heart, but in the long years ahead when he was mired in cold, passionless duty, he could warm himself with embers of remembrance.

      Her room gave some clues as to who she was. Though it was simply furnished, there were touches of vivid color everywhere. Vibrant green fabric draped across the foot of her bed, the table was painted a sunny yellow, and bright blue curtains hung in the window. A half-read book lay atop the table, though he couldn’t see the title. Pictures from fashion journals were pinned to the walls, and a vase of purple Michaelmas daisies perched on a windowsill.

      No pictures or miniatures of family.

      Her silence stretched on, and each moment without her answer drew tautly along his flesh.

      “An incentive,” he said. “For every truth given, an article of clothing will be removed.”

      Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. The quick, carnal action stoked the flames within him even higher.

      Finally, she said quickly, “You go first.”

      Instead of giving in to the urge to pump his fist in victory, he inclined his head in agreement.

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