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Graynor stood up, dusting off imaginary lint from his shirt. It annoyed Eleanor to no end that this conversation had little effect on him.

“You need to learn if you push people to their limits, they will break.”

Eleanor looked at him like he completely lost his mind. Perhaps he had.

“I pushed you to do that?” She took a step closer to him. “What could I have possibly done to push you to react in such a way that had you pulling me from the ballroom, dragging me into a desolate hallway, and… and doing…” She leaned in and whispered, “… that to me?”

The Duke looked down, hovering over her, his eyes challenging. “You know exactly what you were doing.”

Eleanor took another step closer. Her chin raised, their breaths mixing in the mere inches that divided them.

“And what was I doing? Talking to other men, flirting with other men. Doing what you,” she pointed him in the chest with her finger, “asked me to do.”

The Duke’s eyes darkened. “That was not what you were doing.”

Eleanor laughed in his face. “You’ll forgive me, Your Grace, but I most certainly was. I should know—they were my actions after all.”

The Duke crossed what little space was left between them. “You were toying with me. Flirting with others to get my attention, to get a rise out of me. You were provoking me, much like you are now.”

Eleanor gasped. “I am doing no such thing.”

The Duke only raised a single eyebrow.

Eleanor bristled. “Fine. If I am doing it again, are you so weak that you’ll react the same way?” It was her turn to taunt and challenge him.

The Duke’s eyes darkened as he searched her face. “Be careful, Eleanor,” he warned.

She narrowed her eyes. “Or what?”

Eleanor couldn’t tell if it was her that reached up to him, or if he moved first, but their lips crashed against each other. Her hands reached up to pull his head down further as he wrapped them around her waist to pull her up.

Her toes brushed against the ground as her body pressed up against his.

Graynor’s mouth drove into hers forcing it open. His tongue quickly followed, their tongues fighting for control. Neither one of them wanted to give in to the other, yet both chased the same high.

His hands pulled her higher, so her center matched with his. She felt a hardened length push against her in the most delicious way. A moan escaped her mouth. His arms tightened around her as her moans continued.

She wanted to move against his body, but the way he held her as he stood didn’t allow for it. Should she wrap her legs around his body? Would that be too forward?

Just as she was about to raise her legs, she heard her name.

“Lady Eleanor?”

The butler!

Eleanor pushed away from the Duke, partly stumbling to the ground. Graynor reached out to help steady her.

She wiped her mouth and swatted at his hands. She patted her hair, hoping she didn’t feel as out of sorts as she felt.

“Lady Eleanor? Are you out here?”

Graynor turned his back to Eleanor and the pathway to adjust himself.

Crossing her fingers and saying a quick prayer that she had righted herself enough, she answered the call, “Yes, Jeffries. I’m here.”

Jeffries turned the corner and stopped abruptly when he noticed the Duke. “Oh, Your Grace, I did not realize you were out here as well.”

The Duke spared the butler a glance. “Well, I am.”