Page 17 of Defying the Duke
Abingdon slowed, then stopped his attentions, and when she opened her eyes, he was watching her. A hint of uncertainty lingered in his eyes, and she wondered how he could not know the absolute bliss he had just given her.
She couldn’t find the words to express her pleasure. Thank you sounded odd. More, please, too greedy. Besides, she didn’t think she could survive any more pleasure.
Then all the we shouldn’ts sprang back into her head like a wet blanket on her smoldering skin. The memory of his engagement to another woman. She sat up and shoved at her skirts, lifting one leg over the duke’s lap to stand next to him.
He caught her hand roughly in his and squeezed. “Don’t.”
She stopped smoothing the wrinkles in her gown and met his gaze. The tenderness she saw there calmed some of her distress. But not all. “We—”
“We are two people who are powerless against this attraction between us.” His words were true, but they didn’t cover the facts of their situation.
“We are adults who should be capable of controlling our actions,” she said sharply. She began to force her hair back into place and redo the loose pins.
“I would love to see your hair down,” he said softly, his voice husky.
It suddenly struck her he had unfulfilled needs, and she had no idea how to address them. The passion between them seemed to have passed, and her lack of experience would become painfully obvious were she to offer.
She stabbed a pin in her hair so hard it scraped her scalp. She wanted nothing more in that moment than to recover the glow she’d felt just minutes before.
Abingdon stood, took her by the arms, and turned her to face him. “I admit I chose the location poorly, but that’s the only thing I regret. Miss Westfall—damn, that sounds ridiculous after what we just shared. May I call you Dinah?”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“Jack,” he corrected.
“Jack,” she said more softly. Using his given name changed everything.
No, she chided herself. It changed nothing. He was still a duke, and she was nothing.
“Dinah, I want to spend time with you away from the office.”
She fought the urge to snort in derision. “Shall I accompany you to a ball, perhaps? Or an opera? I believe we’ve gone past the promenade in Hyde Park stage of our relationship. But wait—won’t we run into your fiancé if we are out in Society?”
His hands tightened on her arms. “I am not engaged. Those reports are wrong. There is no woman in my life but you.”
She gave him a dry laugh. “I’m not in your life, Your Grace. I’m in your office. I’m also not naive enough to think anything we do here will change the fact you are my employer.”
“What is the matter with you? Why is it difficult for you to believe I want to spend time with you talking about something other than how much money we made last night?”
“To what end? It’s pointless. We shouldn’t have done what we did. We certainly shouldn’t continue to…to…”
“I want to make love to you, Dinah.” Jack’s voice was deeper, huskier than normal as he admitted that. “I want to make love with you.”
“You are my employer. There’s no love in that.”
“Quit your job, then. I will find you an apartment. We can go to the opera if that’s what you want. Or go on a picnic. Stroll Rotten Row. Whatever you like, we can do it.”
Tears welled in her eyes, and Dinah batted her eyelids to clear them. This was exactly what she feared, proof of the only possible outcome of their attraction. But it wouldn’t do. She couldn’t be mistress to any man. For one thing, it would destroy any chance of Chrissy making a happy marriage. “I cannot quit my job. I have a family to support.”
“I will take care of them, too. I should have done so for your grandmother when your father died out of respect for him.”
Mention of her father hit her nerves like being doused with a bucket of ice water. To think of the shame she would bring to the family name by becoming a courtesan. Her grandmama would be mortified if she ever discovered what Dinah and her boss had done today.
She must leave this very moment, and get as far away as possible from the Duke of Abingdon. She couldn’t quit her job. No one else was likely to hire a female clerk and pay her as well as Sutcliffe’s did. Tomorrow she could tell the duke in no uncertain terms that their affair was at an end. But right now, she needed to be alone to put her emotions in order.
Tearing herself free from Jack’s hold on her arms, Dinah grabbed her reticule from her desk drawer and strode to where her pelisse hung. She draped it over one arm, afraid to risk Jack wanting to help her put it on. The tenderness in how he did so was more than she could bear right now.
He followed her toward the door. “Where are you going?”