The Duke and the Lady in Red by Lorraine Heath Page A

brushed a kiss over his cheek. “Hello, dearest.” She noticed the book resting in his lap. “What are you reading?”
    â€œ Last of the Mohicans. ”
    Straightening, taking the chair opposite his, she asked, “Is it any good?”
    â€œIt’s interesting. He put his hand on your back on the way to the carriage.”
    She almost teasingly asked if he was referring to the last one of the Mohicans but she could tell that he was troubled. “You were watching from the window, were you?”
    He gave a subtle nod, his eyes, the same piercing blue as hers, containing no guilt or remorse.
    With a sigh, she said, “He was being solicitous. It’s how gentlemen behave.”
    â€œIt seemed—­” His jaw tightened. “Possessive.”
    â€œIt wasn’t. He doesn’t own me, Harry.”
    â€œHe’s big.”
    She offered him a slight grin. “Not as big as you.”
    â€œWould I frighten him, do you think?”
    It was difficult but she held his gaze, because she didn’t want him to suspect that Avendale might hurt him. “He’s a duke. I doubt he’s afraid of anything.”
    Harry looked into the fire. “Will I ever meet him?”
    â€œNo, I don’t think so. We won’t be here much longer.” After experiencing a taste of Avendale’s talents, she couldn’t risk losing control again.
    His gaze came back to fall heavily on her. “Do you love him?”
    Even though her heart clutched at the question, even though she feared the next word she spoke would be a bit of a lie, she laughed lightly. “No.”
    Not completely. But she could see the danger of it happening. A man as powerful as he, once he learned the truth, he’d take everything she held dear away from her.
    â€œBecause of me?” Harry asked.
    â€œNo, sweeting, because of him. His interest is purely—­” God, the room was suddenly far too warm as she remembered where his interest had been earlier, where his hands, fingers, mouth had journeyed. “He’s a man who only enjoys the chase. It’s like that time when you and I went fishing and you insisted we toss the fish back after we caught them. The fun was in catching them, not keeping them.”
    His brow furrowed. “He could have put his arms around you tonight and caught you.”
    â€œIt’s not quite that easy between men and women.” She needed them to tumble off this path before it became more awkward. “Shall I describe the theater to you?”
    His eyes glittered with anticipation. “Yes, please.”
    The towns they’d lived in before hadn’t had theaters, not that she would have taken Harry if they had. London offered so much more than any place else they’d visited. She was going to miss it when they left.
    â€œOur seats were in the balcony and I could see everything. I memorized every detail.” As she began to elaborate, she couldn’t help but remember how difficult it had been to focus on them when she’d been acutely aware of Avendale studying her. She had been so cognizant of his presence filling the box, the nearness of his body. She was fairly certain he’d been bored with the play. Still she’d been unable to refrain from taking his hand during the climactic moment.
    As much as she appreciated that Avendale had taken her, it saddened her that he took so much for granted. Had Harry been there, he would have been enthralled. It would have made attending the theater just a little bit sweeter.
    It was an hour later before she bid Harry good night and retired to her bedchamber. Sally helped her prepare for bed. When all was done and Rose was again alone, she sat at the window and gazed out. She ran every moment of the night through her mind. Every subtle touch, every hungry look, every determined caress, every whisper. Her panting and gasping, his groans and encouragement. His holding her tenderly