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Eleanor quickly looked around. Surely he couldn’t see her. She was standing in a doorway, but the light from the room didn’t hit her, and there wasn’t much light behind her on the veranda.

“Answer me,” he demanded.

Eleanor jumped at the command in his voice. Her mind was telling her he couldn’t possibly be talking to her, but instinct told her otherwise. A sly grin crept across the Duke’s face while his eyes darkened, locking her in.

It was at that moment Eleanor knew he was talking to her, and she was very much in serious trouble.

CHAPTER 4

Eleanor took a slight step to the right, to hide more in the shadows, but it was too late. The Duke’s eyes locked in on hers, and there was no denying she was there watching the two of them.

She tried to swallow, but her throat ran dry. Her breathing was erratic, and her stomach was rolled into a tight ball. She couldn’t drop her gaze, even if it meant her ruination. There was something captivating in them that fascinated her. The way he commanded the widow’s body to do as he pleased intrigued her. It was all so new to Eleanor, so wicked, so primal. Such a stark contrast to the prim and proper ball that was happening on the other side of the door he was pressed against.

Without warning, the Duke turned the widow in his arms so now both of them were facing Eleanor’s somewhat hidden frame. However, the Duke took the widow’s neck and tilted it back to rest on his chest, her eyes settling on the ceiling above them, not on Eleanor.

His other hand gathered her skirt and slipped underneath with a sensual moan spilling from the widow’s lips.

Eleanor’s favorite dress began to feel too tight, itchy. She pulled at the lace that lined her décolletage, hoping for some relief. But that was not where she needed it. Heat began to grow low in her belly. The sensation was new to Eleanor, and while she had to admit it sparked her interest, she couldn’t help but deny the edge of danger that was laced through it.

“I asked you if you liked this.” The Duke’s voice was low, husky, and full of lust. His hand moved faster, but his eyes were still on Eleanor.

The widow writhed under his hold. Panting and mewling as he worked her into a frenzy of pleas of “faster” and “yes.”

“Do you want more?” His voice was possessive and fervent, yet his face showed no trace of exertion. “Answer me,” he ground out.

The widow breathed out a “yes” while the Duke attacked her throat with open mouthed kisses.

All the air left Eleanor’s lungs as her body leaned forward, resisting the urge to go to them. There was a growing part of her that wanted to be the one to answer him. She wanted to touch him. She wanted to be the one under his control, under his hands.

The urge to go was becoming too strong. Her heart began to race, her weight shifted between her feet, and her hands itched to reach out. The foreign awareness in her belly was increasing like a storm gathering wind.

The widow jerked hard against the Duke and let out a scream which he captured with his mouth while turning the widow back to face him.

Eleanor stood astounded, processing what she just witnessed.Did I just watch what I think I watched?

She looked around to see if anyone was on the veranda who may have seen her or the couple in the library. She looked back in time to see the widow whisper something in the Duke’s ear. His smile was forced, but his eyes drifted to the widow’s as he shook his head no.

With a slight lift of her shoulder, the widow reached up and kissed him on the cheek. She smoothed her skirts and left through the door that the Duke was just leaning against. But not without blowing him a kiss and giving him a saucy wink in his direction.

Eleanor willed her body to move; she needed to leave before he directed his attention back to her.Come on, Eleanor. Move your legs!

“Eleanor.”

His voice was light and nonchalant, a sound that clashed against her clearly affected body. He raised his finger and beckoned her into the library. He reclaimed his spot, leaning up against the door to the hallway. She was acutely aware that he was blocking an exit. If she didn’t drift too far in, she still had the door she came through.

Her steps were heavy and uneven at first. She made her way to him on wobbly legs and stood behind a chair, using it to lean on for support. Who was she kidding? She used it more as a wall between her and the Duke than support. He clearly had her under some sort of spell, and she didn’t trust him or herself.

He tsked as he moved closer to her. Once again, she was caught in his gaze, unable to look away from the man who was stalking towards her. When he reached her, he moved the chair from between them, putting it aside. Reaching out, he took her by the waist and pulled her into him. A small squeak slipped through her lips as he leaned in toward her ear. Goosebumps broke out over her body as his hot breath tickled her neck.

“Did you like the show, Eleanor?” His voice was like velvet: deep, rich, and seductive.

Her eyes fluttered shut. Her societal training was switched off as her body reacted to him on instinct. She leaned in, wanting to be consumed by this man.

Her mind was a whirlwind of images, his hands on her. His hands on the widow.The widow!Hot anger flashed in her veins.He was just with the widow, and now, he was seducing her. The rake!

Eleanor opened her eyes and pushed back against the Duke. “Let me go this instant.”

He let her step back but kept his hands on her waist.