Page 47 of Duke of Wickedness

She wasn’t like that with anyone—not anyone outside her family, anyway.

And Phoebe. She’d let herself justbewith Phoebe today, too.

It felt…strange. Not bad. Just strange.

Stranger still was that David always seemed to accept each of these real pieces of herself that she let out.

Now, for instance, he leaned back in his seat, smirking.

“I must disagree,” he said, not missing a beat. “As you are sitting here, in my carriage, with me. Just as I wanted.”

She let out an impatient breath.

“It is astonishing to me,” she said, “given your history, that you actually do not knowanythingabout women.”

He looked properly offended at that.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Do you know how many kinds of gowns there are?” she demanded. He opened his mouth to answer, but she held up a hand. “Let me stop you; you do not. You might notice the things you like or don’t like about a woman’s attire, but if you can tell me the difference between a morning dress, a walking dress and a tea party dress, I shall give you one million pounds.”

“You don’t have a million pounds,” David said.

“You don’t know the difference between those dresses,” she countered.

There was the briefest détente.

“I do not,” he allowed.

“Ha,” she said smugly.

“Why don’t you come here and I’ll tell you if you’ve worn the right attire for tonight?” he said silkily.

Ariadne was very tempted to give in to that offer, but she was too delighted to find that she was actuallywinningone of their little battles of wits.

“Next time, just make things clearer in the note,” she said tartly.

From his seated position, David pouted—it was annoyingly charming on his frustratingly handsome face—and then bowed.

“As my lady commands.” The words were dry, teasing, andstill,they sent a sensual little rush through Ariadne. It was fun to play this role, if only for a moment—her, the commanding seductress, and not the ignorant virgin.

Their trip was much shorter this time than it had been when they’d gone to the theater; by the time Ariadne was considering giving up on her performance of hauteur and letting him inspect her dress after all, they were coming to a stop in front of the duke’s house.

An even greater frisson went through Ariadne—half anticipation, half nerves.

“Are you—are you having a party tonight?” she whispered.

David laughed; it wasn’t unkind, but he was definitely laughingather.

“Oh, little bird, you are a delight,” he said warmly. “No, no party tonight. I am not certain that you are quite ready for that particular lesson yet, though your eagerness is to be commended.”

Ariadne wanted to protest, but then she thought of that image that she’d seen through the window that first night, the woman grinding atop the man’s lap, her head thrown back.

Yes, Ariadne had seen a fair amount of nudity that night at the theater, but that had mostly been female nudity, which frightened her much less, given that she had taken a bath before in her life and had therefore seen just about everything that the female body had to offer.

But she suspected thatmenwould be naked at one of David’s parties. And she wasn’t quite certain how she was supposed to face seeing…that.

“I’m noteager,” she protested absently. “But then—if there’s no party—what are we…?” She didn’t like how she stuttered over the question.