Authors: Elyse Huntington
Castor looked at her then burst out laughing. Without releasing her, he leaned over and opened a drawer in his desk and drew out a sheet of paper. He handed it to her, still chuckling. Bella’s forehead wrinkled.
“What is this?”
“This,” he said, grinning like a fool, “is how unaffected I was when you were standing before me.”
“But … it’s just meaningless scribble.” Then realisation dawned on her face. “Oh!”
“Oh.” His voice was wry.
She laughed. “I thought you were so incredibly rude, ignoring me like that.”
“I was desperately trying to prevent myself from leaping over the desk, hauling you into my arms and kissing you senseless.”
Bella looked up at him, her eyes shining. “I won’t mind at all if you decided to do that now. But there’s no need for the leaping over the desk part. Just the hauling and kissing will do.” She paused. “And perhaps a few other additional activities.”
Castor arched a brow. “Such as?”
Her smile was infinitely wicked. It turned out, though, that it was nowhere near as wicked as her suggestions.
With which the Duke of Avalon was more than happy to comply.
After all, he had just won the most important gamble of his life.
An excerpt from My Dark Duke
James’s head jerked up at the sound of the door opening. It had taken barely an hour of polite society to realise that nothing had changed, leading him to seek retreat in the earl’s library. To his surprise, a woman entered the room, and he watched as her shoulders slumped in relief and a faint smile appeared on her face when she beheld the wall of books before her. Although nowhere near as large as his own library, the earl’s was nevertheless extensive, containing works in a variety of languages, many in Italian, as the former countess had been Italian-born.
But neither the books nor the earl’s ancestry were on the duke’s mind in that moment. Instead, he found himself entirely captivated by the enchanting profile of the slender beauty before him. Like the other women at the ball, the hair piled high atop her head was powdered, so he was unable to discern what its natural colour was. He thought that it would likely be of a dark shade, as that was the shade of her eyebrows. Those perfectly shaped eyebrows arched above eyes which appeared dark in the muted light in the library. Even from his position in the corner of the room, he could see that her long, thin nose was slightly more pointed than convention would dictate as beautiful. But it was her rouged mouth that drew him like a beacon. Its bow-shaped upper lip and full lower lip filled him with an unexpected urge to possess it, to make her his own and no other man’s.
Her movement pulled him out of his reverie, and he blinked at the fanciful thoughts that had seemingly appeared from nowhere. She walked towards the short library ladder and he looked on with some amazement as she placed a slippered foot on the first rung, her wide skirt and petticoats forming a clear obstacle. His lips twitched at the look of frustration on her face before she determinedly gathered a large handful of cream silk material in both hands and hiked up her dress, exposing a slim calf covered in silk stockings. Awkwardly, she began to climb up the ladder and he started forward out of the shadows, concerned at the fact that she was holding on to nothing but her petticoats.
James paused a foot away as the intrepid woman dressed in the heavy cream silk gown leaned precariously over and reached for a book to her right. Judging by the expensive French Argentan lace trimming her gown, her husband was obviously a man of means. Book finally in hand, she straightened up and gingerly lowered her left foot onto the rung below. It was fortunate that he had anticipated what was to occur next because a squeak was all the warning he received. The lady flailed her arms, trying to find something to grasp and then toppled surprisingly gracefully off the ladder.
He leapt forward and caught her in his arms. Unfortunately, the weight of her gown combined with the force of her fall caused him to lose his balance and he fell backwards onto the floor. The woman landed with a soft ‘oof’ on top of him in a tangle of silk skirts and petticoats.
‘Damn and blast,’ Alethea muttered as she stared at the exquisitely detailed embroidery on the black brocade waistcoat which her face was pressed up against. Her mind was furiously trying to process what had just happened. One moment she was balancing on the ladder and the next she was lying on top of a man. A man with an impressively strong chest, if she wasn’t mistaken. Bracing her hands on the floor, she slowly pushed herself up. Her eyes met a pair of sombre dark brown eyes, a lighter shade than her own. He stared down at her over his noble nose.
‘Are you all right?’
She felt his deep baritone voice vibrate in his chest against her and the sound of it resonated deep within her. Stunned by her fall and her reaction to his voice, she could only stare at him in silence, lips parted. Alethea saw his gaze drop to her lips for an instant before he grasped her arms firmly and pulled her upright. Before she had even realised that she was now sitting in a scandalous position on top of his thighs, he was already moving her off him, his hands hard against her waist. The man, his powdered hair tied back in a simple queue, stood up and held out his hands to her.
Alethea put her hands in his, feeling the calluses on his palms. As he pulled her up, she wondered where he had gotten them from. The only other men she knew with calluses on their palms were her father and brother, and theirs were the result of manual labour when they had assisted the tenants on her father’s estate with harvesting. Once he was certain that she was able to stand, he dropped her hands and took a step back, making her feel a pang at the loss of contact. What in heaven’s name was wrong with her? Never had she felt like this about someone she had met mere moments ago.
For the first time since her fall she was able to take a good look at him. He was tall, standing about six inches above her own not insignificant height. Aside from his stockings, he was dressed entirely in black, the only adornment a gold signet ring on the fourth finger of his right hand. His coat was cut more narrowly than current fashion dictated, the cutaway style emphasising the leanness of his build. Her eyes were about to drift down his lower limbs when she suddenly realised what she was doing and jerked them back up to his face, feeling her face heat at his faintly amused look. Hastily composing herself, she fervently prayed that her face powder concealed her pink cheeks.
‘Do I meet with your approval?’ he asked.
***
Since his notorious wife died in mysterious circumstances, rumours about James, the handsome Duke of Trent, have scandalised society. Now, he must marry again – but finding an eligible woman willing to overlook his past won't be easy.
Defiantly single, Lady Alethea Sinclair has already turned down six offers of marriage. She prefers living on her own terms and refuses to answer to any man. Yet when Alethea meets the seductive and enigmatic Duke she finds herself strangely drawn to him.
Intrigued by Alethea's defiance of society's expectations, James is instantly taken with the wilful beauty and soon they are enjoying a playful flirtation. And when circumstances force them into a comprising situation, he does the honourable thing and marries her.
But adjusting to the constraints of marriage doesn't come easily to the rebellious Alethea and, despite their growing feelings for each other, the Duke's troubled past keeps getting in the way. Can they learn to trust each other and give love a chance before it's too late?
A steamy Georgian romance about desire, the importance of staying true to yourself and the power of the past to cast a shadow on the present.
About the Author
Elyse spent her childhood years in Borneo. She moved to Australia when she was a teenager and was an avid reader of romances. It was her love of historical romance that led her to write My Dark Duke, which finaled in the Romance Writers of Australia Emerald Award contest in 2014.
A lawyer by profession, Elyse is a self-confessed compulsive buyer of any books featuring dukes. She also loves reading stories featuring alpha billionaires - undoubtedly because they are the embodiment of modern-day dukes. Elyse spends her free time (and perhaps a little too much of her not-so-free time) fantasising about wickedly handsome heroes and the strong heroines who ultimately tame them.
Elyse loves to hear from her readers. You can contact her via:
Website:
www.elysehuntington.com