PENETRATE (The Portals of Time Book 1) by Jackie Ivie

glanced up. He was smiling. Her heart stuttered. She moved her gaze to his mouth and chin before anything else happened.
    “You really need to call me Neal. All right? We are affianced, after all. I’m pretty sure you can stop the ‘your grace’ stuff, especially when we’re alone.” 
    The breath she eased out trembled. She hoped he didn’t notice. His voice was unsettling. His touch even more so. Her entire body felt tingly all over, aware and alert, as if she’d just risen from the waves of the loch after a clandestine swim. Before the sun rose and the mists cleared. On the coldest of morns. Except this sensation didn’t make her feel remotely cold.
    Anywhere.
    “Hmm. If I’d known the color of your eyes, I’d have been tempted to ignore the custom, and bring a sapphire ring. I’d have made certain it was smaller, too,” he remarked. “By the way, we need to set a wedding date. You can figure that out, can’t you?”
    “I can be ready tomorrow.”
    He grinned at her. He had a beautiful smile. Very white teeth. Perfectly straight. Her heart stuttered again. Ainslee’s eyes widened. She swiftly moved her gaze back to the ruffles at his shirt front. Pulled on her hand. He released it.
    “Oh. I think you’ll need at least a week. Maybe two. If this dress is an example of your wardrobe, I’m in severe danger of being accused of cradle-robbing. I was told you were somewhere in the age range of nineteen. But, you look about twelve in this get-up. You’re going to need some new clothing. Something age-appropriate. Tell your sire to send me the bill. And there isn’t a woman I know of that would turn that offer down.”  
    Her heart gave another stumble. That was beyond worrisome. She wasn’t supposed to react to the duke. Or any man. And she didn’t dare feel anything! She set about squashing the reactions. Now. Right now.
    “Verra well, your grace. Two weeks.”
    She took a step back to make it easier. Glanced back up. Couldn’t move her gaze.
    Again.
    “Oh. No rush. I was just making conversation. Tell you what? Why don’t we meet up in two weeks...to discuss possible dates? And please. It’s Neal.” 
    He folded his arms, and tilted his head to one side, giving the impression of looking her over as he might a horse or similar acquisition. Ainslee couldn’t shake the sensation. Her back straightened, and that just put every bit of her breasts against the tight bodice of the gown, defining portions of her anatomy no one ever saw. She watched him glance there and then he looked at something over her head. She watched a nerve twitch in his jaw. For the longest moment, neither of them moved. Nobody even breathed.
    “Ainslee?”
    Her eldest half-brother stuck his head in, his voice accompanying the door opening. Ainslee immediately stepped toward the duke. The move was instantaneous and instinctive. Self-preserving. And completely foreign.
    It also blocked her from view.
    “Oh…g-good eve, uh…your…grace. Have you seen my…uh…my sister, Ainslee, by chance?”
    Mitchell’s words were slurred and nearly unintelligible. He stumbled into the door. It slammed into the wall. Smacked back against his shoulder, making him stagger backwards before catching it.
    “As a matter of fact…”  The duke began drawing out the words, but Mitchell interrupted him.
    “The laird’s been yellin’ for her.”
    “Tell him there’s no need. We’ve about finished.”
    “I doona’ believe I can save her a beatin’ this…go-round. She’s so stup’t. She kens better than to set him against her when he’s in his cups.”
    “Set him against her?”  The duke repeated, without one inflection to his voice.
    “You hush your tongue, Mitchell MacAffrey!” 
    Ainslee moved out from behind the duke before her brother said anything more. His face lightened and he smiled drunkenly at her.
    “Oh. Hello, Ains…lee. Come along. Father’s yellin’ for you.”
    Mitchell gestured for her. Ainslee moved another