Page 68 of Her Heartless Duke
The dance ended with both of them close together, much too close than what was appropriate, perhaps, their breaths almost mingling with each other as their hearts thudded with the exertion of their practice.
“You have become a most excellent dancer, my Lady,” he remarked softly.
She smiled at him, hoping that he would see all that he was coming to mean to her. Hoping that he would chooseher, and not Lady Vivian.
But she could not see any of that happening. Nor could any long-term good come of it.
“That is because I have a most excellent teacher, Your Grace,” she replied a little breathlessly.
“That was one of the hardest dances,” he told her. “If we can pull off those same steps, we should win the competition for sure.”
Olivia nodded, still feeling a little lightheaded from the physical exertion of their practice.
Isaac frowned when he saw that she had not yet recovered. “Perhaps we should take some time before practicing some more,” he suggested. “Come. Horace has prepared some refreshments for us.”
Ah, the most excellent Horace, who thinks of everything!
Olivia gratefully accepted his arm, leaning into him slightly as he led her to the chaise. She could feel his warmth through the many layers of their clothes, the muscles of his arm a testament to his hidden strength as well as his gentleness.
They sat down together, and Isaac poured them both some tea, while Olivia reached out for one of the little cakes. It looked exquisitely tempting, with a sheen of frosting on top.
She let out a happy little sigh when she bit into it and the fresh citrus zest burst in her mouth, tempered by the creamy sweetness of the cake itself.
When she opened her eyes, she saw Isaac looking at her with a small smile.
“What is it? Is there something on my face?” she asked him.
“Just a little,” he murmured, reaching out to brush the side of her mouth with his thumb.
The contact had Olivia sucking in a deep breath, shuddering just a little.
“Do not do that.”
She blinked. “Do what?”
“That.Everything,” he said harshly, before he leaned in to devour her lips in his, the sweet tang of the orange cake on her tongue mingling with the earthiness of the tea in his.
Olivia sighed and threw her arms around his neck, opening herself up to him, once more losing herself in the storm of passion that she had tamped down for the past week.
She knew she should not be doing this, should not be kissing him back like this… but she was lost in a haze of passion, his kiss the only thing anchoring her, keeping her from being swept away.
It seemed like an eternity since their last kiss, although in reality, it had been little more than a week. Olivia kissed him back, matching him step for step in perfect synchrony.
“Your kiss alone is a devastation,” he groaned against her lips. “You are a deluge, and I cannot stand against you any longer.”
Is he complaining? I am the one who finds myself unable to resist!
However, those thoughts were long lost on Olivia, for his lips had wandered to the side of her neck already, his hands deftly dealing with the buttons of her dress. In return, she pushed the jacket off of his shoulders and tugged impatiently at his cravat.
He laughed hoarsely as he tugged her dress down until she was left in nothing but her chemise.
“Sweet Olivia,” he murmured against the soft swelling above the thin, lacy neckline. “Do you know how utterly delicious you taste?”
Her reply came in a soft cry, her back arching as his tongue rasped over her nipple through the flimsy silk, the texture of it both abrading and delighting her sensitive skin.
“Your Grace!” she gasped.
“Isaac,” he reminded her with a soft growl. “I will have you screaming my name, damn it.”