Falling Into Bed with a Duke (Hellions of Havisham) by Lorraine Heath Page A

much.” She moved up, and whispered, “If he was the one, you were wise not to let things go any further than they did. He’d have never done right by you.”
    “I wasn’t searching for a man who would,” she said sotto voce. She’d wanted a man who could provide lovely memories. “This is neither the time nor the place for this discussion. Appreciate the photographs, Grace.”
    With doubt mirrored in her eyes, Grace finally turned away from her and gave her attention to Ashebury’s work. “Based on his reputation, I’m not surprised there is something very sensual about them.”
    Sensual, yes. Light and shadows that played off each other. How might he have used them to capture her? Trying to deflect her thoughts, she said, “They’re portraits of animals, men working, and children playing.”
    “But the lion,” Grace said, her voice low, reverent. “It’s like he’s looking at a female he wants to possess. He’s preparing to claim her, taking his time, waiting for the perfect moment to declare his intentions.”
    “I think he’s considering having Ashebury for dinner.”
    “Oh, Minerva, don’t be naive. I’ve seen that exact look in men’s eyes on more than one occasion. Trust me, it’s desire.”
    Minerva had seen that look only once: the night before in a bedchamber with Ashebury. And she’d walked away from it.
    In spite of all her earlier arguments, she couldn’t help but feel that in leaving, she’d been a fool.
    A S lady after lady vied for his attention, Ashe didn’t know why his gaze kept wandering back to Miss Dodger, would dart around the room searching for her if she’d moved away from where she’d last been. Gentlemen approached her, but it was obvious by their bored mien that it was only politeness or perhaps an interest in her dowry that prompted their hovering. It was equally obvious that she wasn’t flattered by their attentions. No sparks ignited, no heated glances were exchanged.
    He couldn’t explain his sudden interest in her. If she’d been dining with the Duchess of Lovingdon, then she couldn’t be Lady V. On the other hand, how late had the dinner run?
    She had blushed when he’d spoken of the beauty of the human body, invited her to see what was forbidden in polite society. He’d thought then that she knew exactly the sort of photographs that interested him the most. Thought he had her, thought she’d provided a clue that they had indeed been together the night before.
    He was desperate to discover Lady V’s identity because he couldn’t get her out of his mind. Not even when one of London’s most beautiful debutantes, Lady Regina, gave him her undivided attention as she was doing now. He fought to pay attention to her nontitillating discourse on nightingales—
    It dawned on him that she was striving to drop clues. He scrutinized her. The hair was wrong. The shade of her eyes, the too-slender shape of her torso, wrong. The way she carried on with her little innuendoes and gazed at him with obvious sexual awareness, he was fairly certain he could entice her into posing for him. But he simply couldn’t work up any enthusiasm for the notion.
    He wanted the one who had gotten away.
    Because she’d gotten away? Or was there more to it? He didn’t want to examine his motives. It was unlikely they would ever cross paths again. He’d blathered on about her not giving her virginity to just anyone. She wasn’t likely to return to the Nightingale. His best hope for finding her resided with a visit to the Twin Dragons.
    “D O you see what you missed out on?” Edward asked his brother as he perused the photographs.
    “A near-death experience?”
    The manner in which their parents passing had affected them was odd. It had made Grey more cautious as though he feared Death hovered around every corner. It had emboldened Edward, almost to the point that he dared the Grim Reaper to have a go at him. By God, if he was going to die young, he was going to make the most of