Page 44 of The Devil's Deceit

“Definitely. The piano was the winner, as well as you writing music. Charles has eclectic tastes in music.”

“I’m no expert, believe me, but playing soothes me.”

“I tried violin in school. It didn’t end well. Ah, here’s your soon-to-be fiancé.”

I turn around as Christian approaches, a half-quizzical, half-concerned look on his face. “How’d it go?”

“She did brilliantly,” Vicky says, looking like a proud mum who’s just been told by the teacher that her kid is top of the class. “Charles loved her. Stage one complete, I’d say.”

“Good. Maybe now he’ll stop pointing out every single woman with a pulse to me, which he’s been doing since seveno’clock this evening.” He takes both my hands and looks deep into my eyes. “Can I steal you away?”

My tongue feels too thick for my mouth, and there are about five seconds where I forget who he is and what I’m here to do. “I-I… sure.”

I expect him to lead me from the ballroom, but instead, he heads to the dance floor.

“Um, I’m not a great dancer.”

“Neither am I. Who cares?” He takes me in his arms and presses his cheek to mine, which leaves his lips directly beside my ear. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Always.” Let’s face it, there’s only one secret I want from Christian, but I doubt that’s what’s on his mind.

“I am having the filthiest thoughts about you.”

My breath catches in my throat. I shouldn’t encourage him, but there’s a demon on my shoulder who is firmly in charge when I ask, “What thoughts?”

“Thoughts of taking you upstairs to my apartment and stripping you bare. Thoughts of bending you over the couch and screwing you until you can’t walk straight. Thoughts of getting on my knees and drinking from your pussy like it’s a fucking water fountain.”

There’s been many times in my life where I’ve been stuck for the right response to what someone’s said, but this time, not a single word comes to mind. My clit throbs, and I don’t need to check to know that my underwear is soaked. I’ve had boyfriends, but not a single one has ever made me feel as though my skeleton is made of jelly like Christian has with a few well-chosen, dirty words.

Why, God? Why did you have to make me attracted tohim?Almost three billion adult men on the planet, and I’m madly attracted to the one guy I hate.

It’s a cruel joke, and I’m not laughing. No, I’msalivating.

“Have I scared you off, Duchess?” His tone holds amusement rather than concern, and I take the opportunity to make his overconfidence take a seat for a fraction of a minute.

“Yes, you have. I’m not that kind of girl.”

He stops swaying—no one would call what we’ve been doing dancing—and rears back, his eyes saucer wide. “Shit, Grace, I’m sorry. That was overstepping the mark, especially given the nature of our relationship. Forget I said?—”

I throw back my head and laugh. “That was so much fun.”

“Ohh, you… you…”

“Me, what?”

His lips return to my ear. “As soon as I can engineer alone time with you, you’re going to get so fucked.”

It figures, considering I’ve been fucked since the day I stepped foot inside Oakleigh Hall a few weeks ago. It’s time to face a truth I never envisaged: it’s possible to want someone you’re destined to hate.

And make no mistake, I want Christian De Vil. Desperately.

Chapter Fifteen

CHRISTIAN

Sometimes I think the universe is out to rip me a new one.

During the last thirteen days, I’ve traveled to six different countries on De Vil business, with barely a second to myself. I’m jet lagged, cranky, and hornier than I’ve been since I lost my virginity and realized that sex was a pleasure that could easily become an addiction.