The Ugly Duckling Debutante_FINAL-3 by Rachel van Dyken

Whatever for?”
    “Well,” she said leaning forward and scandalously pulling off her glove—something she was told by her aunt never to do. “A woman’s hands are very delicate.”
    Sara looked up and noticed his eyes were positively smoldering back at her. Must he always be so angry? She was having a bit of fun. Joking would be good for him.
    “And?” he asked hoarsely.
    “And,” she said lifting an eyebrow in interest, “If a girl slaps trees, it helps toughen the hands up. It also builds strength, so when a certain girl is approached by a certain rake, she has the strength to…”
    “Torture him?” Lord Renwick interjected, though the look in his eyes told her he wasn’t talking about the tree anymore.
    She leaned back as if stung and quickly put her glove on. Somehow the tables had turned. What started as harmless flirting now felt like extremely dangerous territory.   Her own heartbeat slammed in her chest, and as rapidly as it was beating she was sure he could hear it too.
    He licked his lips. She couldn’t help but watch as he bit his lower lip in thought. Desperation was not an emotion she was fond of, yet in that moment, she felt desperate for his lips to meet her own.
    Lord Renwick cleared his throat, “Interesting…methods.” His voice was back to normal.
    “Are we still talking about trees?” she asked innocently.
    “What else would we be talking about?” he sneered.
    Lord Renwick’s eyes followed her hands like a cat follows a mouse. Was he thinking about her being ungloved? Wasn’t that most improper?
     
    ***
     
    It was bad enough Nicholas could still feel the heat from Sai’s slap; she had surprised him, and he hated being surprised. Except for the small fact that she was the one delivering said surprise, and although his cheek stung like a mad hornet’s nest, he couldn’t help but admire her small hands and her spunk.
    When she took off her glove he nearly passed out, and he wasn’t one to go weak in the knees. Her hands were delicate flowers, but it was a misconception that they couldn’t pack some strength; in fact, he was convinced she was the only woman he knew who could successfully give a man a black eye. The thought made him smile; he would like to see this young woman resort to violence tonight. It would be most amusing. Then again, that would mean she would actually have to touch another man, a thought Nicholas hadn’t come to grips with just yet.
    She was flirting with him shamelessly; although, she was so skilled at it, one hardly knew whether to laugh or cry. His emotions were altogether unstable whenever she was near. One minute he was calm, the next he felt like someone set him on fire, he was so angry. Then in the next instant, he felt such a blinding attraction for her he was paralyzed with muteness. He put his hand to his face again and sighed.
    He shouldn’t have called her a chit. Normally he would flirt back, but she frustrated him to no end. Sai was a carrot dangling in front of a horse. She was what every man wanted, but only some, the titled some, would be able to acquire. Though her blushing told him she was a mere maiden, her behavior spoke of something else entirely.
    He groaned out loud, then realized she was still looking at him.
    “Is something wrong, my lord?”
    "Renwick, at least call me Renwick,” he said.
    She smiled chastely. “Renwick, are you well?”
    The look in her eyes was stunning; she really did care, even if she had been the one to cause his pain—all of it for that matter, the emotional and the physical. Sure he felt physical pain in his cheek, but he also felt pain in his legs, in his back, in his neck… his heart. It shamed him that he ached so wickedly for her. He would be bad for her; his lust would destroy her. She would think it passion, but he knew what he was. Men hardly married someone they were both attracted to and loved. It wasn’t done. Plus, this woman was no innocent. She may be a maiden, but…something hard