Page 32 of Only a Duke (Ladies Who Dare #6)

The distance between him and the angel closed.

She moved with a grace that seemed to match the flow of the waves lapping at the sand.

Her hair tumbled over her shoulders in loose curls that danced with every step she took, shimmering in the evening sun.

Her curves were gracefully sculpted by the soft folds of her dress, moving with each step.

Truly angelic. Utterly beautiful.

Oliver’s heart pounded, a fusion of emotions too profound to name exploding into his chest. She had stirred something within him during their time together. Something he couldn’t quite yet grasp with his two hands. Yet neither did he want to let it go.

“Louisa,” he said when he was a few feet away.

She glanced back and smiled when their eyes met. “Did you find yourself in the mood for a stroll as well?”

“Something to that effect.” He saw the gooseflesh on her arms. “You must be cold.” He pulled the blanket from his shoulder, shook it out, and draped it over her shoulders, his finger brushing the pale skin of her collarbone.

Oliver swallowed and withdrew his hands.

“On the contrary, the breeze is quite refreshing,” she said but clutched the blanket tightly.

She started walking again, and he fell into step beside her. “What are you thinking about, roaming the coastline all alone?” Oliver asked.

“Would you believe me if I said I wasn’t thinking about anything?”

Oliver smiled. “No.”

She chuckled. “You’d be right.” She bent down to pick up a smooth pebble, rubbing it between her fingers. “I was wondering what life would look like if the duchess were no longer in our lives.”

“You mean Leo’s life.”

“It must sound rather strange, but the way she speaks to him... I cannot explain it. It is too sweet, too false.”

“No, I understand,” Oliver said. In fact, he applauded Louisa for picking up on the nuances. Not many people would. “These women use their husbands and sons to manage the tasks they cannot, as you see with the betting book. And that control has to start somewhere.”

“It’s quite clever,” Louisa murmured, shaking her head. “It makes them share responsibility. Shall we sit and watch the sunset?” She lowered onto the sand, patting the spot next to her.

“Clever, indeed.”

Oliver followed suit, glancing toward the horizon. The sky, once a soft blue, had shifted to a brilliant tapestry of golds, pinks, and purples, each color blending seamlessly into the next.

Almost as radiant as the woman next to him.

This might be the first time he’d ever taken the time to enjoy the sunset.

“Lawks,” the angel suddenly spoke. “It gives me the shivers just thinking about it. At least I haven’t been wrong to feel off about Camilla’s treatment of my brother. She probably wanted to groom him for use while winning him over to her side. Conniving woman!”

“You don’t have to worry about that, Louisa,” Oliver said softly. “I won’t let that happen.”

She folded her arms atop her knees and lowered her chin to rest upon them, turning her head to stare at him.

Oliver felt his ears heat at her regard.

“No?” she murmured. “Even though Leo is a Talbot?”

“Your brother is innocent. He deserves to stay that way as long as possible.” When Oliver was the boy’s age, if he wasn’t at school, his father had him sit in on all his meetings, good or bad.

He’d lost his own innocence too early as a result.

But it was also this habit that had allowed him to learn about what his father had done to the young Lady Louisa.

“Words sweeter than romance.”

He chuckled at that, arching a brow. “Have you ever experienced the romance of courtship?”

“I can’t say that I’ve had a determined enough suitor.” Her smile widened. A spark of mischief lit her gaze. “But I have had a peck and a kiss, and they were still a lot sweeter than any courtship as far as I can tell.”

Oliver inhaled deeply, the cool ocean air pouring into his body, a striking opposition to the heat rushing through his blood. Here, with the sound of the waves and Louisa at his side, he felt a remarkable sense of peace. But it was a peace shadowed with a growing desire that gnawed at him.

“Speechless?” she teased, then chuckled.

“You’ve quite robbed me of my breath,” he admitted, unable to tear his gaze away from her.

Unable to break the connection. The spell she cast with her bright eyes, winding around him.

He wasn’t sure he wanted to break it. He certainly didn’t want to think about anything else, anything that might shatter the enchantment.

After all that had happened, he needed a moment to catch his breath, too.

She was that moment.

“Then shall I give it back to you?” She flashed her teeth. “Your tongue.”

God, Louisa.

The wind picked up, carrying a bite that prickled his skin, which he welcomed.

However, he didn’t want the angel to be even the slightest bit cold, so he moved closer to her, wanting to serve as a shield and warmer, but also—and this might be the real damn reason—he wanted to be closer. As close as she would let him be.

What the devil was wrong with him?

You are in trouble, Oliver. The thought echoed over and over as she leaned closer, craning her neck at him, one finger tapping her lower lip. Her eyes laughed at him. “Are you moving so close for the return?”

God, she drove him mad.

And yet, his head lowered to brush her lips. How could he stop himself? How could he deny her? He’d have to be made of damn stone to resist. Cold, unfeeling, a marble statue, as most considered him to be. But hot blood pulsed his veins, and at this moment, it burned.

Her fingers tangled in his jacket, pulling him down with her as she fell back onto the beach.

Her tongue met his in an urgency he praised, her lips answering his desperation in kind. She tasted like sherry—sweet, seductive, and utterly intoxicating. Christ, it wasn’t enough. He chased that flavor, sought it out with a hunger that bordered on madness.

Fire coiled low in his gut.

Her hands looped around his neck, her fingers pushing up his hair.

The action was so exquisite, Oliver’s whole body broke out in shivers.

He cupped her cheek, the other hand digging into the sand, clenching a fistful, trying hard to prevent it from roaming in places that might get him into serious trouble.

“Oliver,” she breathed against his lips.

Another wave of shivers rushed over his body. Hell and damnation, what was he doing? He lifted onto one arm. “We should stop.”

“No.”

He stilled, eyes meeting hers. “I beg your pardon?” he said in confusion. No?

“We should continue back in our chamber.”

Our chamber.

“We don’t have a chamber,” Oliver said slowly, and too damn raspy for his own liking.

Her eyes sparked like blue jewels. Naughty jewels. “Right, that was the other cottage,” she murmured. There was a note of mischief in her voice. “But the one here is good, too. I was hoping you could wrap your limbs around me again tonight?”

Was she trying to kill him? “Last time was a mistake.”

Her hands slid from his hair, dragging down to his chest, fingers digging into him like a silent, provocative demand. “I refuse to accept the word mistake . There is no such thing. There is only the moment, the opportunity.”

“Louisa, do you even know what you are saying?”

She grinned. “Saying? I know what I am doing . I am seducing you.”

Ah, yes, this angel was killing him. “Why would you do that?” he dared to ask.

“Because I might never have the chance again. And I am a lady who dares, Duke.”

Oliver had been mistaken.

He was already in serious trouble. It had arrived long ago.