Page 24 of Only a Duke (Ladies Who Dare #6)

The faint glow from the carriage lamps outside provided just enough light to outline the interior, casting dancing shadows across her breathtaking features.

Her eyes held his steadily, and her breathing seemed to remain steady, too.

However, Oliver could glimpse the tension in her posture, the way she held herself completely still.

She was close, so damn close.

“I believe you overestimate my strength of will, Louisa.”

Her shoulders softened fractionally, a seemingly unnoticeable action that a man like him would never miss. She had come to some sort of decision. And whatever that decision, it would be deuced tempting and damn hard to resist.

He wasn’t wrong.

Oliver pressed back against the seat, but there was no escaping her as her hands moved from where they hemmed him in and settled on each side of her face.

“Louisa.”

“As I told you, saying my name like that doesn’t help,” she said with a smile. “It’s my birthday, Oliver. Will you really deny this request of mine?”

Oh, he very much could, but his body couldn’t seem to move as she lowered her head to his, her eyes lighting up with each inch gained.

He was mesmerized by that look.

And then her lips brushed across his. So softly, he thought he might be imagining it. Certainly not like the press, or rather peck, he had given her earlier, but a simple, word-defying brush .

Oliver gripped the seats—hard—his muscles straining to keep from pulling her closer. She lifted away from him slightly, barely, only to lower her head again and brush her lips over his again, tempting him, daring him not to respond. Her tongue grazed at the seam where they joined.

He heard a snap in his mind.

He felt it in his body.

This had been unfolding since the first moment they met at her house after he broke in.

Every encounter, every word spoken, chipped away at something inside him no matter how professional he had tried to keep their encounters.

But now? Now she had successfully pushed him to the brink of every limit he had set for himself.

Oliver lost the battle with his mind.

His hands circled her waist, hauling her up against him as his tongue darted out, claiming those mischievous lips. He did not relent until she yielded, granting him access to her warmth, her taste.

It wasn’t a gentle kiss.

Nor was it rough.

It was the kiss of a man who had reached his limits and a woman who had driven him there, but who matched him at every step. He groaned as the scent of sweetness wrapped around him, clinging to him like an embrace he couldn’t escape.

And he couldn’t.

He didn’t even try.

She shifted, settling onto his lap, her arms winding around his shoulders. He hugged her closer still, until his chest pressed up against hers, leaving no space, no part of them truly separate.

She stole his breath.

He couldn’t even rear back to gasp for more, his head trapped between her and the velvet-lined seat.

God above.

Fortunately, she seemed to require breath as badly as he did, for she pulled back, her breathing just as rushed, just as bothered as his.

He dragged in several deep breaths.

Christ, she was beautiful. Even in this moment with the dampened light shimmering across her skin. Especially in this moment. The lower half of his body tightened.

No.

Dangerous.

He gripped her waist and in one smooth motion deposited her back onto her seat, taking a moment for his lungs to reclaim their normal rhythm.

“That was dangerous, Louisa,” he warned, his tone serious.

She laughed, bright eyes shining with stars. “But it was a marvelous birthday gift.”

A curse flew through his head. “Only you would see a kiss as a marvelous birthday gift.”

“Well, since you stole my first kiss in the Havendish garden, you might as well claim it thoroughly.”

Oliver didn’t rightly know what to say to that.

Did all women distinguish between pecks and kisses the way Louisa did?

Did they all hold their first kiss as sacred?

Don’t be a damn fool, Oliver. Of course they do.

As for the first point, peck versus kiss, he couldn’t say.

But he wondered what she would think if she ever remembered that she had also pecked him once on the cheek ten years ago.

Not that it had any bearing on what had happened here tonight, but he had never been quite able to shake the memory.

He hoped she didn’t remember—never remembered.

For with that memory, would come others.

“I never meant to steal your first kiss. My apologies.”

“Oh, lord, please don’t apologize for kissing me on my birthday. That will only make me feel wretched.”

Oliver forced the tension from his body, settling back into the seat. “And we can’t have you feel wretched on the last second of your birthday.” He pulled out his pocket watch, only to catch the hand tick past midnight. “It’s officially over.”

She chuckled. “You know, fleeting as the moment was, this might be the best birthday I have spent in ten years.”

Oliver glanced at her. “Surely not.”

A bittersweet smile formed on her lips. “No, it’s true.

Not many people know this, but ten years ago today, or I should say yesterday, I was taken and held captive, spending my birthday in darkness.

Ever since then, I have spent it alone. Even my family knows to leave me be on this day.

This is the first year I not only went on a bit of an adventure, but I retrieved an important book, and I also claimed my first kiss. ”

All the tension rushed back to his body. He was aware it had been ten years, but he hadn’t realized it had fallen on this very night. Her birthday .

He cursed his father all over again.

Ah, Louisa, Louisa.

You did well today.

“Well,” he answered softly, hoping to provide some form of comfort even though it might fall short. “In that case, may all your birthdays from now on be as eventful and filled with all you wish and desire.”

“Most people would gasp in horror at my story of being kidnapped.”

He nodded slowly, attempting to mirror the curve of her lips but failing. “That is horrifying, Louisa.”

“You didn’t gasp, though,” she teased.

“I inwardly gasped.”

“Lord, you are such an arrogant rogue, you know that?”

Perhaps arrogant, but rogue? A newly minted one, perhaps. Otherwise, would he ever have kissed her? And yet, he couldn’t help but be glad that he had. The twist of contradiction lashed at him. “I am extremely grateful you are here alive and well.”

The quirk of her lips never faltered. “You are right. That is the best gift, is it not? That I can be here, alive and well on my birthday. It could have been worse, correct?”

“I’ve found that it’s better not to dwell on those it could-have-been sorts of questions,” Oliver said steadily.

He had no desire to revisit the past, nor could he imagine she did either.

Yet, she seemed far stronger than he, confronting the recollections, the remembrance, with a calmness, even some humor, that he could not fathom.

A small chuckle. “Right again.”

Silence settled between them.

The clatter of the carriage wheels on the uneven road, accompanied by the occasional jolt as they hit a particularly deep rut, slowly soothed the discomfort that had settled deep in his limbs. But it couldn’t erase it all.

Yes, I’m glad you are here alive and well.