Silk and Scandal Read Online Free PDF Page B

not help herself.
    This man, though unlike any other of her acquaintance, was still just a man, she told herself. Charlotte had succumbed to just such a thrill and now she was dead for it.
    Eliza steeled herself. Unwillingly, she lifted her head, gathered her pride, and stared him straight in the eye. Before those molten silver eyes consumed her, she caught her breath, reminding herself he was merely mortal, not some girlish fantasy.
    His lashes were thick and black, she noted with a small shudder.
    When at last he smiled at her, she felt struck as though rocked by a quake. Her gloved hand trembled as it rested on a broad, hard shoulder.
    She felt tiny in his arms, though by any description, she was tall for a woman. Men of his size were intimidating, she thought, stifling the tremor that shook her to the core. He was dangerous, too sensual and too exotic in appearance for safety. Any woman would be a fool to fall under his spell, and Eliza was no fool.
    Somehow her feet managed to move and she gave him a cool smile.
    “Do you like the waltz?” he asked with a husky drawl.
    “I suppose,” she demurred. “I seldom dance it, though it’s beautiful when well done.”
    “You do it very nicely.”
    “An attempt at flattery, Your Grace?”
    He grinned. “Is it working?”
    “I seldom succumb to flattery.”
    “Mmm. Perhaps then, I should tell you that your eyes are like violets?”
    Unable to resist, she smiled at his brash teasing. “African?” It had been quite a long time since she’d enjoyed a man’s company and it was a difficult thing to admit.
    Duke Weston laughed, showing startlingly white teeth. “What else? Not very original, am I? Surely a woman as breathtaking as you has heard everything from Byronic prose to stricken male stammering. I apologize,” he said softly. He gave her waist a small squeeze that sent shivers over her flesh. “You deserve more than the mundane when a man sets out to gain your notice.”
    The words sounded a warning through her brain and suddenly the dance seemed no longer pleasant beyond measure. She was not a woman to be won, wooed, or handled and it was time the brash young duke learned the truth.
     
    Nicholas felt her stiffen in his arms and realized he’d spoken of his intent too soon. Her withdrawal, both physical and emotional, was a tangible thing. Hoping to regain a place in her good graces, he went quiet and concentrated instead on the movements of the dance. She was a dream of a woman, he thought, buoyed by light touches of slender thighs and the inadvertent pressure of her breasts against his chest. A man of intense concentration, he drank in the scent of gardenia she wore, the feel of her body as he swirled her around the dance floor, grace personified. Others watched their flight across the marquetry floor but his attention remained fixed upon the woman in his arms.
    Her skin was softer than a dream, her scent mesmerizing. In short, the woman made his mouth water, but he knew a wary female when he saw one. She was afraid of something. Surely, he was not so fearsome?
    As the last strains of the waltz brought their dance to an end, he pulled her as close as he dared and bent his head toward her ear. “May I call on you, my lady.”
    A startled expression crossed her face and once again she stiffened against him. A tremor shook her making him more curious by the moment. For such a composed and cool young woman, she seemed stunned by his request.
    “N-no.” She shook her head. Lady Eliza cleared her throat and looked at him. “I should say, Your Grace, that I do not accept male callers unless they are close family friends. If you are searching for a wife, you would do best to look elsewhere. I shall never marry.”
    “So certain,” he murmured.
    “Quite certain. I should return to my friends.”
    “As you wish.”
    Nicholas bowed cordially as he left her with her group. Normally, he knew how to charm women and Eliza wasn’t unmoved by him. He’d even made her