Page 9 of The Duke’s Goddess (Duke Dare #2)

“The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting.”

–Sun Tzu

JAMES WAS FEELING OFF. At first he attributed the feelings to the fact that he hadn’t lain with a woman in a while. But if he was being honest with himself, he had only noticed that he had been feeling a little bit off since Boudicca’s wedding. More specifically, since his dance with Joan. Or perhaps just before that even. The conversation over lemonade had already prickled his…what? His heart? No, surely not. His nether regions? Yes. That was true. Something in his body reacted to Joan, that was undeniable. But he was a rake, and he had plenty of reactions to countless women.

Except…

The way he responded to Joan’s smile. Her laugh. The slight touch of her hand. Those were different. He could honestly say he had never had such strong physical reactions to such innocent gestures. When he danced with her, she fit in his arms so perfectly. And when he had hid her on the balcony, it was to protect her. Not out of self-preservation. Though he still didn’t want to marry, his instinctual reaction had been to preserve her reputation. She was somehow charming, despite being so practical. And her brand of charm particularly charmed him. But when he stopped to think about it, which he didn’t do all that much, he chalked it up to the weddings and all the talk about love.

Really, they mostly spoke of love and marriage and helping their friends fall in love, so it couldn’t be helped that new—and odd—feelings were teeming through him. James pushed those reflections aside.

Under bright sun and blue skies on this fine afternoon, his previously mentioned plans were about to come to fruition. The house party guests had been invited to a picnic, and everyone was lazily gathering in various groups on blankets or chairs provided. Jacob, however, was not of the lazing variety, and James could feel the nervous energy bouncing off of his friend.

James had suggested to Joan that there was no harm in priming Sally for the boating invitation. Since she had seated herself next to Sally, it was no hardship to do that.

“Wouldn’t it be lovely to sit in a rowboat on a day like today? To feel the breeze on your face while out on the pond.” James overheard Joan point out to Sally.

“That sounds quite nice,” Sally said, flitting her eyes over to Jacob who was practically itching a hole into the selection of fabric that was covering his knees. “If only someone was interested in the activity.”

Joan had told James that Sally was shy, but so far, every interaction James had observed of Sally was of her putting herself out there, so he couldn’t help but wonder about Joan’s people reading skills.

Thankfully Sally wasn’t focused solely on him anymore, she actually seemed to be a bit curious about Jacob. If that was true, this afternoon could trigger their courtship. Unfortunately, Jacob was too wrapped up in his nerves to notice Sally’s invitation, so James nudged his friend.

“Don’t you have something you want to ask?” he whispered to Jacob, raising his brows.

“Uh…oh…yes, erm—Sally,” he cleared his throat, “would you like to accompany me on one of the rowboats?”

James jumped in as well so that the two weren’t going off on their own.

“Joan, shall we join them?”

“Yes, that would be wonderful,” she said, pushing herself to stand up.

Samuel and Chris had joined the picnic and were sitting with Joan’s sisters. And just before the two couples departed, Samuel whispered into James's ear, “One hundred pounds Jacob gets too nervous and sinks his boat with Sally in it.”

James bumped him with his shoulder. “God, I hope nothing so dramatic happens.”

“Have fun!” Mimi shouted after them as she lounged on her blanket.

James took Joan’s hand and placed it on his arm, leading her towards the boats.

Making conversation, he asked, “Do you know how to row?”

“I do. Do you?”

He chuckled, amused at how she could turn the simplest of phrases on him.

“Yes. Do you know how to swim?”

“I do. Are you planning something I should know about?”

“Nothing of the sort, just curious.”

“Curious about anything else?”

Actually, he was quite curious about her. She could be cagey when she wanted to be. At other times he could see her open up to him. Even though he wasn’t interested in her, and he knew she wasn’t interested in him (due to his rake status), there were parts of him that wanted to know parts of her.

He stole a glance at her. She was rather beautiful. Dark hair, almost matching his. And deep green eyes like a forest. The sharp slope of her nose. The soft curve of her kissable lips. Yes, he could admit to them being kissable. Any man with a pulse would concede the point. She was beautiful. Not for him, of course, because she was a lady. Which meant she was looking for marriage and children. The exact future he was avoiding. If he wasn’t avoiding that future, he would certainly be keen on exploring her body. He wanted to see her naked. That escalated. But once the thought was there, he wanted to see more of her. Her sprawled on his bed. Or skinny dipping in the pond at night. He really shouldn’t entertain such thoughts. With his height, and from his peripheral vision, he could see her creamy mounds teasing him. He should be thinking that they were nothing he hadn’t seen before. But he couldn’t quite get there in his mind. They were something—

“You’re staring at me,” she interrupted his thoughts without looking at him. “You’re either curious about something or I have something on my face.”

“I’m curious,” he confessed. And because he was feeling off, and he didn’t want to be the only one suffering, he blurted out, “Have you ever gone skinny dipping?”

He expected her to whirl around and march off before they could even get their boat in the water. He half expected her to sock him in the arm for some reason.

Instead, all she said (without looking at him, mind you) was, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

And yes, now he really would like to know. Before he had just asked to startle her. Throw her off her equilibrium. But that plan hadn’t worked, so now he was verging on desperation to know the answer.

But he wasn’t going to get that answer. At least not right now. They had arrived at the boats, both pulled ashore, and Sally and Jacob were getting in. Which meant that they were now within earshot. He had little doubt that Joan would give up any revealing information in their presence.

James offered Joan a hand into the boat. “Steady now. I’ll hop in and push off using the oars.”

With grace, Joan alighted and sat balanced in the boat. James hopped in and with a giant push, set them off into the pond.

With a quick turn, James rowed, his back to the pond, staring at Joan. “Can you see them?”

“Hardly,” she said, shifting her weight to look around him. “But what little I can see indicates that Sally might be switching her focus from you to Jacob. Not sure how much longer we’ll be needed.”

A pang stung James near his chest. He was enjoying this time around Joan. If he didn’t have much time left with her, he wanted to know more about her.

“Tell me something no one knows about you.”

Silently she eyed him, and he could feel her skepticism scanning him. “If no one knows it, why do you think I would tell you?”

“Sometimes it’s easier to tell something to a stranger.”

“While I wouldn’t call you a stranger, I can see your point.” She sat back in thought.

After rowing for a minute, just when he thought he would need to ask a different question, she spoke up.

“You know that Boudicca fences?”

“Yes.”

“My thing is daggers.”

James studied a small blush creeping up her neck, and he smiled. “What do you mean exactly? What do you do with daggers? Are you a clandestine knife fighter?”

“No. I throw them, and I’m a bladesmith.”

Stunned, James stopped rowing. “Wait. You actually make the blades?”

“Mostly daggers. They’re my specialty. I’m always carrying one.”

“Like right now?”

She nodded.

“When we were dancing?”

She nodded again.

“When you sleep at night?”

“Not that it’s any of your business what I do at night, but I do keep one close at hand.”

“Wow. You are an impressive lady, Joan. For being so predictable, I’m shocked.”

“Thank you.”

When she said those two words, it was as if she wanted to say more, so he waited, hoping that she might trust him. For some unknown reason.

“Sometimes people commission blades from me.” She looked up at him, and the light in her eyes actually stole his breath. She was the most excited he had ever seen her. “They don’t know it’s me. I hope to grow my business one day.”

Her confession warmed him. She was trusting him with something incredibly important to her. And though he didn’t know why she was doing it, he felt…appreciated. Maybe that wasn’t quite the right word. He felt included, a sense of belonging, and strangely, it all felt right. It felt as though she should always confide her secrets in him.

“You won’t tell anyone, will you?”

“Of course not. Your secret is safe with me.” He remembered to row again. After a few strokes, they were now obscured from view by some large hedges and trees growing in a tall clump at one part of the pond. “I never knew you were such a daredevil.”

“I’m not really—”

THWUMP.

“What was that?” Joan asked, putting her hands on either side of the boat, she stood up. Well, she half stood up. What she was really doing was bending over in half to look over his shoulder (he knew that was to be the real reason). But the tiniest part of him wondered if she was trying to show him the depths of the valley between her two jostling mounds.

He could feel his arousal twitch between his legs.

“Could you” —he cleared his throat— “sit down?”

She didn’t budge. “What happened?” In fact, she leaned closer to him, giving him an even clearer view.

He groaned.

“We hit a rock, James.”

The urgency in her voice caused him to glance behind him. Sure enough, there was a boulder in the middle of the pond.

Irritated more by his body’s reaction than their small boating accident, he cast the blame her way. “You didn’t think to warn me that we were headed toward a boulder?”

“I didn’t see it behind your mountainous frame.”

She thought he was big?

“Your shoulders are too broad.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

Flustered, she answered in a rush. “No. I mean, yes. I mean…erm…that’s not the point. I just couldn’t see around you.” And then, probably because the air between them had grown thick, she added, “Or maybe it was your big head I couldn’t see around.”

He laughed, jarring the boat.

“Oh, James. Don’t laugh,” she scolded.

“Why not? It’s funny.”

“You’re rocking the boat.” And then she went down on her knees in front of him. Down on her knees! She was practically between his legs.

“What are you doing?”

“There’s a small puncture in the boat.” Her voice was panicked. “Water is seeping in.” She looked around the empty boat. For what, he did not know. Hammer and nails? A bucket? “Quick. Give me your stocking.”

“What?” he screeched. That was certainly a sound that he had never produced before.

“I need to plug the hole.”

“Use your own stocking.”

But really, that was the wrong thing to say. He knew that it was the wrong thing to say when he watched her lift the hem of her dress to reveal rim ankles, and—he couldn’t look. He also couldn’t let her continue.

“Nevermind. I’ll give you mine.”

But he must not have been working fast enough, because as he unlaced one shoe, she was working on his other.

“Don’t move, James. You’re moving the boat too much.”

But he had to move. He had to get his sock off. He had to do something to not think about her potentially between his legs, touching his foot. Skin to skin.

And then the potential disappeared and became reality. She was between his legs. Pressing up against his cock (now semi hard), mumbling to him not to move (which he didn’t dare do), and thrusting forward. Toward the hole he could only presume. With stocking in hand.

He squeezed his eyes shut. No one could see them, which at this precise moment was both a blessing and a curse. For this was a scandalous position to be found in. The curse however, was that if he didn’t row them back fast enough, they might sink. And even if she could swim, her numerous layers would weigh her down. And though now more than ever he wanted to see her skinny dipping (for then he would have firsthand knowledge of the answer to his question from earlier), he didn’t think that skinny dipping in front of so many guests would preserve her reputation.

“Hurry up, Joan.”

“I’m almost…there. Yes.”

“I don’t need your commentary on it,” he said, gripping the oars with power from the almighty above.

But she didn’t quit. “So close.” He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw.

“Just…need to…finish…yes. There!” she exclaimed.

God, that was torture. “Get up,” he shouted.

“No need to growl at me. I’m trying to save us.”

He glared at her and started rowing them back to shore.

“Oh dear, the stockings aren’t working.”

“What?”

“Can’t you see the water collecting in the bottom of the boat?”

Yes, he could see it. Now that he was looking at it. But no, he hadn’t seen it because he was trying to keep his eyes up and away from her or anything near her.

“The boat is going to sink before we get to shore,” Joan stated the obvious.

“Hell,” James muttered. This was a terrible situation. Should he jump in the water and take some weight out of the boat? The hole was just high enough that without his fifteen stone frame it might bob above the waterline.

Well, better him than her in the water. He started to take off his outer layers.

“What are you doing?”

“Swimming.”

“Now?”

“It’s so you don’t have to.”

“Oh.”

And then he stood up, ready to jump.