Seduction & Scandal by Charlotte Featherstone Page B

away for the girl.”
    His Grace refused to return his stare, and instead focused on the fire that blazed in the large hearth. “Yes,”he murmured so quietly that Black wasn’t certain he was supposed to have heard him. “Pining, perishing, bloody angsting over the girl, and she won’t give me the time of day.”
    He’d known Sussex since the cradle, and had never seen him this way. Lucy Ashton was tying him in knots.
    â€œEnough of this,” Sussex snapped. “When will you go to the theater, and do you want company? Lord knows I would do well with a night out.”
    â€œI’ll make preparations and let you know. As an aside, I met with Knighton on the docks this morning. There was nothing of interest to us in the crates. I don’t think him a threat, but all the same, I offered to sponsor him into the lodge. I hold to the adage that one should keep their friends close, and their enemies closer.”
    Sussex smiled slyly. “You just said he wasn’t a threat to us.”
    â€œNot to the Brethren Guardians,” Black murmured. “But he is a threat to me.”
    â€œNow who’s moonfaced?” Sussex said, and laughed when Black rose from the chair and retreated from the room. It was fine for him to tease His Grace about this affliction for Lucy, but it was quite the opposite to be the object of the duke’s mockery.
    Â 
    S HE COULD NOT STOP THINKING of that kiss, or the feel of Lord Black’s arms encircling her. She had felt wild, unbidden and in truth, he was just as wild as she. Which was shocking in a way, for Black always seemed so composed and self-contained. That he should possess such passion was both a surprise and a fright. The kiss had been hard, frenzied, as if both of them had been denying such a thing for eternity. Yet they had only just met. And therein lay the fear.
    She should be mortified. Ashamed. She had kissed a man who was not courting her. She should feel at least aglimmer of remorse for kissing Black while courting with Mr. Knighton. Yet how could she regret the event of her life? For this was what that kiss was…the most exhilarating moment of her entire existence.
    She could still taste him on her tongue. Her lips still red and swollen from the fervor of his mouth atop hers. Her body, which had been so tight and hurting, now dully ached. She was aware of a persistent restlessness inside her, something she had never felt before. An agitation that she knew could only be abated by seeing Black again.
    It had been a mere twenty-four hours after their introduction, and here she was, pining for him. How could this be? After so many years of carefully guarding her passions. After watching her mother throw herself at any man that glanced her way, here she was just waiting for the opportunity to lunge herself into Black’s arms.
    He was a sorcerer, a beautiful, dark magician who had woven a spell upon her. It was the only way to explain her rash behavior—the way she had discarded her beliefs, her fears. She had sworn never to allow herself to be at the mercy of her desires. But here she was, on the threshold of desire. With one kiss, Black had opened the door to a room she could not allow herself to enter, for inside that beckoning chamber, Isabella knew her destruction lay within the hands of a most alluring master.
    This attraction between them was inexplicable. Despite having only been introduced, Isabella felt as though she’d known him all her life. When she was with him, she felt the familiar agitation disappear, suddenly filled with the calm from the storm that had been her life. In Black’s company, there was familiarity, as if he had somehow long been a presence in her life. But she had never seen him or talked to him until the night of the ball. There was no denying that there was something inside him that beckoned her. Whatever it was, her soul seemed to answer.
    Was it fate? Destiny? She no longer knew