Twice the Temptation by Beverley Kendall Page A

attempt to shrug it off.
    “You must be confused about the reason I wanted to speak with you,” Lucas said, a teasing note in his voice, the green flecks in his eyes subdued by the brown. “I wasn’t seeking your permission, I merely intended to give you fair warning. I am going to court you. You will be my wife. Is that not what I told you Charlotte?” He spoke without once removing his gaze from Catherine.
    “Yes, he was quite emphatic, quite determined,” was Charlotte’s reply.
    Arrogant men had never appealed to her, but this too self-assured American did. God only knew why. Oh, he was frightfully handsome, but that didn’t signify as she’d been the focus of lustful yearnings from her fair share of handsome gentlemen.
    No, in him she saw a man who had upended his entire life to be with her. He truly loved her like no other man had ever done. And the glitter in his eyes told her he wanted her. It was just as well because she wanted and loved him with the same ferocity. But her pride demanded she not permit him to believe she would be so easy a conquest. This wasn’t a game she was playing, merely a flex of her twenty-five year old independent muscles.
    “Are you saying I shall have no say in it?”
    His eyes narrowed and his jaw tensed. After a pause he smiled, his teeth white against the light copper of his skin. Lord, he had a beautiful smile to go with everything else about him. It was a crime and a travesty to arm a man so. “Certainly. You are free to say yes when I formally propose.”
    Charlotte’s hand flew to her mouth in an effort to smother a giggle. She failed.
    As with anything remotely resembling an order, Catherine’s spine stiffened in protest. “My, are you not presumptuous?” She hoped the coolness of her tone, the deliberate arch of one eyebrow sent him fair warning if he thought she would acquiesce to his desires just like that. A gentleman should have to earn a woman’s affections. In his case, she’d grant, he was off to a rousing start.
    His next move startled her, tearing the seams of her composure. He stood close—mere inches away, his hand incongruously solicitous at her elbow, his mouth near enough to her ear to feel the wisp of his breath. “Truthfully, would you have me any other way?” His question was cocky, his tone scandal in the making. Catherine suddenly realized she’d like nothing more than to be scandalous.
    A delicate clearing of the throat occurred to the left of Lucas’s shoulder, several feet behind him, where her sister stood watching their exchange. “It is obvious the two of you will have a difficult time keeping your hands off each other. I wager the courtship will have to be brief. Dare I hope for a June wedding?”
    Guilty, Catherine dropped her hand immediately to her side. She hadn’t even realized she’d clutched his arm until her sister’s amused chastising voice shattered the moment. In the span of seconds, she’d forgotten Charlotte was there.
    “No—” Catherine began.
    Her sister held up her hand to stay her defense. “I must go and tend to my daughter. It is time for her nap. But the door shall remain open.” She gave Lucas a look of mock reproach. “You’ll have time enough for that after you’re married.”
    Catherine felt the heat of a blush suffuse her face. Her sister was incorrigible as Charlotte herself had anticipated her wedding night by several months given she was pregnant before she fled England six years ago.
    Lucas merely smiled, neither denying the charge nor responding to it. Moments later, they were alone, the library door left conspicuously open.
    “She’s become feistier since she returned to the marquess. More confident.”
    Catherine noted the admiration in his eyes. “She’s happy.”
    “I am glad.” Lucas’s expression softened when he spoke. That he was deeply fond of her twin was evident. In a flash, however, his eyes narrowed, all softness gone from his features and in its place a glittering