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M iles looked over his shoulder after taking the hedge to see Graham close behind. The duke leaned over the horse’s neck as its powerful body rose and stretched over the hedge. As the gelding landed, his front hoof plunged into a gopher hole, sending both horse and rider tumbling forward.

Rushing to the prone form of his cousin, Miles skidded to his knees and gently raised Graham’s head. But as his eyes opened, the face subtly changed.

“You saved me again.” Gwendolyn blinked at him, her azure gaze steady. “Kiss me.”

He leaned forward, brushing his lips across hers, and desire roared through his body. Her hands slipped around his neck, fingers curling at his nape as they explored his scalp. His kiss went from tentative to hungry, his lips demanding she open to him.

When his tongue slipped inside her mouth, she whimpered, and he pulled her onto his lap. “I cannot resist anymore,” he whispered against her lips. She tasted of tea and honey, her curves melding against his body as if she’d always belonged there.

When he tried to end the kiss, her lips made a trail of fire along his jaw and neck. He growled, a low animal-like sound, and he could feel her grin against his cheek. “What spell have you cast over me?” he rasped.

“You are my destiny,” she whispered in his ear, her breath warm and inviting.

Miles sat up, panting. He was exhausted from the constant dreams that had invaded his sleep.

The sun was just peeking over the horizon, and he sat up with a sigh.

The vixen taunted him whether his eyes were open or closed.

He moaned, remembering how he’d rushed from the drawing room like a green boy, running from the unfamiliar emotion hammering at him.

Desire.

Not the typical physical desire he understood as a virile man. He had wanted to pull her close, no care to who was watching, and kiss her senseless. This was a dangerous desire, a need to keep her close, make her his, claim her.

Was he a deuced animal? Or was this… love? All-consuming, sweet, sensual. If it was, he understood why men committed insane acts when they were afflicted. He ran his fingers through his cropped hair and planted his bare feet firmly on the rug beside his bed.

He needed a gallop since there was no boxing ring here. A hard, sweaty ride to make his muscles sore and his mind blank. He would deal with the women later.

It was midafternoon by the time Miles sat at the desk to attend to his correspondence. He had checked the drawing room, library, and parlor with no sign of Lady Gwendolyn or Lady Greywood. Maybe they were napping or out for a walk.

By late afternoon, he left the study and found Mr. Garner. “Have you seen the ladies?”

“No, my lord,” said the butler. “They have not returned yet from a visit with the neighbors.”

“They are at Cranbrook’s?” Miles frowned. “They weren’t properly introduced.”

“The duchess was here a few days ago. You were… occupied.”

Avoiding Lady Gwendolyn and her mother, he meant.

“Will you be eating at the earlier time tonight or with the ladies?” asked Garner.

“I had a cold repast a bit ago, so I will dine later tonight.”

It was a lie. He hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. Grumbling, he decided to spend some time reading. A few hours later, he glanced out a window. It was nearly dusk. Why hadn’t they returned yet?

He left the library and searched out Garner again. “I’m worried about Ladies Gwendolyn and Greywood. Do you think I should go after them? The carriage might have broken a wheel.”

The butler shook his head. “No, my lord. They are dining with the duke and duchess.”

He watched Garner walk away. Had that been a smug look in the man’s eye? Miles shook his head. He was at sixes and sevens with these women.

* * *

Miles heard Garner in the entryway, answering the door. “Good evening, ladies. I trust you had a nice visit?”

“We did,” answered Lady Greywood. “The duke and duchess are wonderful hosts. Now I am done to a thumb and shall retire.”

As the ladies walked by the open parlor door, Miles looked up with a smile, but neither woman looked in his direction. “Good evening,” he called after them.

“Oh,” said Lady Gwendolyn, “we didn’t see you in here. How are you, Lord Wickton?”

“I’ve enjoyed a quiet day,” he answered, wondering why she appeared flushed and her eyes were glazed. “Are you well?”

She nodded, a grin lighting up her blue eyes. “Wonderful. I’ve been introduced to madeira.”

That explained it. “Shall we practice archery tomorrow?”

Lady Gwendolyn arched a brow. “You are still willing to teach me?”

“Females are allowed to participate, so I see no reason not to teach you.” He gave her his most charming smile. “Unless you’ve changed your mind.”

She studied him for a moment, eyes narrowed, then nodded. “Yes, I should like that. Good night.”

Miles blinked. Fickle females. First, they nag him to remain friends, family , trick him into being cordial again, and then they desert him for the neighbors. A growl rumbled in his throat. He didn’t care. He did not care.

* * *

“Do you think the duchess is correct about Miles?” asked Gwen, placing the signet ring back in the box with Graham’s cufflinks. She sat on her bed, and called Harry, who leaped up to snuggle next to her, one ear flopped on his master’s lap.

“I do,” answered her mother. “She’s a clever woman. It was an excellent idea to use that ring as an excuse to visit the duke. His Grace was quite amused by our story.”

“I would wager on the duchess’s skills as a matchmaker. She’s quite wise about men.” Gwen stroked Harry’s silken ear, and he snuffled his nose against her hand when she paused. “I wish men were more like you,” she told the dog.

“Will you follow her advice?”

“To the letter,” Gwen said with a grin.