Duchess in Love by Eloisa James Page A

and he saw a gorgeous woman laughing up at her husband. Her body was so indicative of desire, bending toward the man like a willow toward the sun, that he felt a matching burn in his chest. She shook pale red hair over her shoulder, and it fell like rose silk down her back.
    â€œMy God,” he said appreciatively, “who is that beautiful woman?”
    â€œWhich?”
    â€œThe one over there, dancing with her husband.”
    Stephen leaned to the left so he could see and chuckled.
    â€œWhy do you ask?”
    â€œShe’d make a lovely Aphrodite,” Cam said dreamily.
    â€œShe’s a scandal, though, isn’t she? I think she’s going to eat her husband alive, right there on the dance floor.”
    Stephen straightened, and the humor disappeared from his face. “That isn’t her husband,” he said flatly.
    â€œNo?”
    â€œNo.” He cleared his throat.
    â€œ You are her husband.”

6
A Meeting of Spouses
    W hatever Gina imagined she would feel on meeting her errant husband for the first time in twelve years, she never considered pleasure. None of her despairing fears came true. The moment she glanced up from the dance and glimpsed a man with a mobile, intelligent mouth and great slashes of black eyebrows, she dropped her fiancé’s hands and shrieked, “Cam!”
    From then it was only a second until she ran across the dance floor, babbling as she went. “You look just the same—no, you’re so much bigger. Hello, Cam! It’s me, Gina—your wife!”
    His smile was exactly the same lopsided, teasing grin she remembered. “Of course it’s you, Gina,” he said. He bent down and kissed her cheek.
    She threw her arms around him, squeezing as hard as she could. “Oh my, but you’ve grown!” she cried. “I’m so happy to see you! I’ve missed you so much! Why didn’t you write more often, you fiendish man?”
    â€œYou wrote so many letters I couldn’t keep up,” he complained.
    â€œYou should have tried,” Gina accused him.
    â€œI couldn’t match your wifely devotion,” he drawled. But he took one of her hands in his. “When I first left England, I read your letters over and over. They were my only link to home.”
    Her face brightened. “How silly I am, Cam! I was so pleased to see you that I forgot to introduce you to my fiancé.” She pulled forward the tall man behind her. “Cam, may I introduce Marquess Bonnington? Sebastian, this is my husband, the Duke of Girton.”
    Cam was surprised to feel a flicker of dislike at the sight of the man. He was infernally handsome, for one thing. Undeniably one of those Englishmen who come to Greece only to complain about the lack of water closets and civilized food.
    â€œI’m honored to meet you,” he said, bowing. “Gina has written me many letters about you.”
    The marquess seemed taken aback by that. He bowed as well. “I hope that Her Grace’s indiscretion did not cause you any distress. She should not have addressed such an intimate subject through the post.”
    Cam eyed him thoughtfully. A prig, that’s what the marquess was. But it was none of his business whom Gina wanted to marry. “She only did so because we are childhood friends,” he said.
    Gina had tucked her hand under Bonnington’s arm and was smiling up at him in an irritating way. “You mustn’t fuss about Cam. He’s quite my oldest friend in the world, and so naturally I write him about everything important, just as I might to a brother. You see,” she said, turning back to Cam, “Sebastian is a fierce guardian of my reputation. He dislikes the idea that anyone might draw inferences about our future.”
    Cam raised an eyebrow. The way she had looked at her marquess on the dance floor, someone would have to beblind not to expect they would marry the moment an annulment was