The Dangerous Duke by Arabella Sheraton

glowing goddess worthy of male worship and enthralled adoration.
    He smiled and his handsome face sparked a tiny quiver of desire in Lady Penelope’s stomach. She was as tensely wound as a spring. Nevertheless, she must not appear desperate for his presence. She knew any tears and tantrums would only drive him away. She gazed coolly back and extended her hand in a gracious gesture for him to kiss.
    “Why, Dev, you’ve been absent so long we thought you had been kidnapped by a wagon-load of country yokels.” Her careless, tinkling laughter sounded like bells in the quiet room.
    Devlin touched her hand with his firm lips and opened his mouth a little so she would feel his warm breath against her skin. She tingled with pleasure. It was a game they both enjoyed; this artificial politeness and verbal fencing concealing the need for lustful sex play that would come later…much later. She pulled him to the sofa with a gentle tug and sank down next to him. Her fingers danced lightly over his as they spoke. She wanted to re-establish that primal contact, to make him remember the pleasures only she could offer. From his minute physical reactions, she knew he was recalling previous moments of passion with her. He leaned toward her as he spoke; he touched her cheek as he tucked a stray curl back into place with the familiar gesture of a lover. She relaxed, and her trailing fingers brushed against his groin as if by accident. She was pleased to note the almost involuntary stirring of the cloth. Clearly, she was still the undoubted queen of his desires.
    Lady Penelope lay back against the cushions, her body outlined beneath the clinging fabric of her dress, as if for his delectation. Her full breasts strained against the confines of her bodice so Devlin could see the creamy globes rising and falling with every breath. A rose-tinted nipple was briefly exposed, and then hidden as she shifted position. He tipped her chin up, placed a chaste kiss on her cheek and smiled.
    “Tell me, my dear Penelope, how does the Season find you?”
    Lady Penelope seethed at his unwillingness to respond directly to her lure. Perhaps he was playing her at her own game, using her own tactics against her. Devlin gave no reason for his prolonged absence and Lady Penelope would not ask. She affected indifference as to his whereabouts. In the past, Devlin would have revealed his activities to her before long. However, as the playful conversation continued, he offered no details. Lady Penelope felt herself growing impatient but she forced herself to flirt and pretend everything was the same as always. However, it was not. She felt a tiny, imperceptible difference in Devlin.
    What was it?
    She could not quite put her finger on it. A slight distance? A feeling that his attention was not quite with her …an almost automatic response to her artless remarks?
    Devlin rose to his feet. “I must go,” he said abruptly.
    Desperation rose like a tide within Lady Penelope but to avoid revealing herself, she simply nodded and stifled a delicate yawn.
    “Oh, dear,” she apologised. “Such a late party.”
    Devlin did not even enquire as to the details; he merely bowed and kissed her hand again. “Shall I see you tonight at Lady Winterbourne’s?”
    Lady Penelope wrinkled her nose and shrugged, affecting disinterest. “Possibly.”
    “Perhaps I shall see you later…afterward?” The remark was casual but the invitation was clear.
    A flame of relief leaped inside her. He still desired her! She shot a sly glance at him from under her slanting lashes, her eyes reflecting her intense longing for him. Her smile was exultant.
    “Until later then.” He turned to leave. “Was that Solesby I saw on the stairs?”
    “Yes, don’t be angry, Dev.” Lady Penelope looked quite smug.
    “He’s your friend; you are free to associate with whomever you wish,” was Devlin’s unconcerned reply as he strode out the room.
    Lady Penelope ground her teeth in frustration. He was