Fruitless.
“Are you smiling?”
He pivoted to see Juno standing just inside the door staring at him as if he possessed a second head. His pulse picked up speed, and his stomach knotted. The sensation was reminiscent of the time Cook had caught him pilfering a biscuit from the kitchen when he was six.
“No.”
“Yes, you were.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why wouldn’t you want me to see you smiling?”
“I can’t see any oranges.” He started walking toward the trees, hoping she would drop the matter of whether he’d smiled or not. Yes, he’d bloody smiled.
She hurried beside him. “You are the strangest man.”
He kept silent until they reached the other end of the building. “Find any?”
Lady Marina was on the other side of the grouping of trees. She poked her head around one. “Not yet. Oh, wait, there’s one.” She moved behind another tree, then reappeared with an orange in her palm. “What do I do with it?”
Juno held out a basket. “Just drop it in here.”
Lady Marina rolled the orange into the basket. “Now to the library.” She turned and strode purposefully toward the door.
Dare frowned after her. “Is she in a hurry to reach the library or to get away from me?”
“Did something happen?” the goddess asked sharply.
“No. I just don’t have the sense that she likes me.”
“She doesn’t know you.”
“I am trying to engage her. There is just no…” He’d been about to say attraction, but decided that wouldn’t be appropriate.
“No what?”
“No connection.”
She flinched. “You need time for that to develop. Instant…connection is very rare.”
“Are you speaking from experience, Mrs. Langton? Was there a Mr. Langton?”
“Yes, there was. However, my experience doesn’t signify,” she said imperiously, and damn if he didn’t almost smile again. He liked provoking her, apparently. That was nearly as surprising as him smiling.
“Just give it some time,” she repeated. “It’s only been a few days.”
“I don’t think time is going to change this situation.” There was no connection, no attraction, no anything drawing him to Lady Marina—or she to him—save the push of those who sought to match them together. The goddess in front of him, on the other hand, provoked an extreme attraction. But he couldn’t say that.
Why couldn’t he? Since when did he censor himself?
“The situation doesn’t need to change,” she said icily. “You do.”
“Me?”
“You’re obnoxious and rigid. I don’t think you have it in you to do what’s necessary to entice a woman to wed you.”
“You don’t think Lady Marina plays any role in this? She’s perhaps less interested in this union than I am. At least I try to draw her into conversation. She behaves as if I’m anathema.”
“So it’s her fault that you’re a complete boor?”
He winced, hating that his goddess thought so poorly of him.
She arched a brow at him and set a hand on her hip. “Perhaps you don’t feel a connection with Marina because you’re incapable of feeling that for anyone. Have you considered that?”
“I don’t have to,” he said softly. “I do feel a connection with someone. In fact, she drives me mad with her giddy smiles and forthright demeanor. I want to learn every single thing about her even though I shouldn’t. More than anything, I want to kiss her and see if she’ll taste as divine as I expect.”
As he spoke, Juno’s eyes went from narrowed to round. Her face paled shade by shade until she was the color of fine bone porcelain. “You can’t mean…me?”
He moved toward her, his pulse thrumming as his body sang with want. “I can, and I do.”
Chapter 6
Juno froze as the duke invaded the space directly in front of her—far too close for a gentleman to come. She ought to move the basket she held between them, but didn’t. Because her heart was beating frantically, and her breath was coming faster and faster.
He wanted to kiss her. She hadn’t considered that. Not because she didn’t find him attractive. She just hadn’t allowed herself to think of him in that way. But now that was all she could think of. His lips covering hers, his hands touching her—
She shook her head. “That would be bad.”
He stopped moving, one dark brow shooting up. “Bad?”
“You need to court my charge—Lady Marina. You should make her your duchess.”
“I’ve already explained that I doubt the match will be acceptable to either of us,” he said patiently.
He seemed utterly at ease, while she worried about her ability to catch her breath. He was the most frustrating man!
The sound of the door opening and voices in conversation carried from the other end of the orangery. They both snapped their heads in that direction before looking at each other.
“I thought I saw another door in the corner,” he said, moving swiftly past the orange trees.
She followed him, clutching the basket with both hands. Thankfully, there was a door, because the voices were moving closer.
He opened it, and unfortunately, it was only a cupboard for gardening implements. “Do we go inside or explain to whoever is coming why we’re here and Lady Marina is not?”
Juno swore under her breath and hurriedly preceded him into the cupboard. He stepped in behind her and closed the door.
Darkness didn’t descend, for there was a window high on the wall opposite the door. She held the basket in front of her, a sad shield between them. A shield? It was necessary, she reasoned. He’d said he wanted to kiss her. And she was not opposed. Indeed, the idea had rooted deep within her and taken hold.
She forced herself to listen to the conversation outside the closet. They were also looking for an orange. Hopefully, they would soon be on their way.
Juno let her gaze drift to his. His dark stare was fixed on her, coaxing the heat inside her to build. The small closet suddenly felt quite hot. She pressed one hand to her cheek and let the basket fall to her side, loose in her grip.
The voices outside began to diminish, as if they were returning to the house.
“I did try with Lady Marina,” the duke said quietly. “Whatever you think of me, I did try. I realize I’m not the most charming of gentlemen.” His mouth lifted in a small, self-deprecating smile, and it completely melted her.
He was an attractive man, but with a smile, he was absolutely captivating. She couldn’t look away.
The smile began to fade. “What?”
“You did it again,” she whispered. “Smiled. Why?”
“Because you’re here.”
“Oh bollocks.” She dropped the basket and grasped the lapels of his coat, dragging him toward her. Not that he needed much encouragement.
His arms came around her, and he kissed her. It wasn’t gentle or tentative, and it sure as hell wasn’t rigid. His lips were soft but firm, commanding hers as he tucked her against him, chest to chest, heat finding heat.