The Duke of Daring (The Untouchables Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

head to the side, and it was somehow a feminine action.
    “Don’t do that,” he said. “You look too much like a woman.”
    She instantly straightened.
    “See how helpful I am?”
    Her eyes narrowed. “You could be lying.”
    He threw his hands up. “You are the most frustrating woman I’ve ever encountered. Come, let’s just go speak with Lady Parnell.”
    She stepped in front of him as he started forward. “No. You can…come with me tonight.”
    He breathed a sigh, feeling inordinately relieved. He truly had no wish to visit her grandmother and explain how his accompanying her granddaughter without a chaperone would not necessitate a proposal of marriage. That was one daring exploit he had no plans to pursue. “Excellent, and at the end of the evening, after I’ve demonstrated both my honesty and my worth, you’ll share your secrets.”
    She pressed her lips together. “We’ll see.”
    “Do that often.”
    “What?”
    “Scrunch your mouth up like that so your lips don’t look so—” He’d been about to say kissable, but damn if he had any idea where that word had come from. And it could go right back from whence it came. “Womanly,” he said. “Come, we’ll start on Jermyn Street and then head to my favorite spot on King Street.” Both hells were fair and enjoyed a clientele where she would fit in as a young buck.  
    Buck?
    He looked at her rounded, somewhat lumpy form and again wondered at what the disguise hid beneath. Perhaps she wasn’t as fetching as he suspected. Maybe he was basing his expectations of her physical form on that of her mental acuity—for all that she was stubborn, she possessed a fine intelligence and a keen wit. “Why aren’t you married?” he asked.
    She chuckled, and the sound was low and provocative. “You clearly did some research about me today, but you didn’t learn everything, did you?” She peered at him askance as they walked.
    “Let’s cross here,” he said, waiting for a break in the traffic before gesturing for her to accompany him. When they reached the other side of the street, he said, “No, I didn’t learn everything, and since I’m to be your, er, partner, I thought we might establish a friendship.”
    She stopped cold and turned on him. “You are not my partner. Not in any way. Is that understood?” It was as close to a verbal slap as he’d ever received.
    “Quite.” They continued on to Duke Street, when he indicated they should turn. He tried a different line of conversation. “Where do you hide that pistol?” He raked her form, trying to detect its location amidst the padding.
    “I have a pocket sewn into the inside of my coat.” She patted her lapel. “Tell me, did you win today?”
    He coaxed his thoughts back to the present. “What?”
    “One of your friends said he’d wagered on you winning today. Did you win?”
    Andrew recalled the phaeton race that morning and smiled. “I did.”
    “And what was the contest?”
    He led her onto Jermyn Street. The hell was just ahead on the left. “Should I tell you? It seems I should be at least half as stingy with my information as you are with yours.”
    She rolled her eyes at him. “I’m not married because no one has ever asked. Does that satisfy your curiosity?”
    “Not by a fraction,” he murmured. “We’re here.” He leaned down and whispered near her ear. “It was a phaeton race, and I won by several lengths. Incredibly exhilarating.”
    She gave him a look that was nothing short of rapturous. “How I should love to do that.”
    In that moment, he wanted to take her. Next time he raced, she could come in her costume… He jolted himself out of such nonsense and coughed.
    He walked up the steps with her. “This is faro and hazard. I assumed that would be acceptable.”
    “Yes, but I should love to play whist.” She glanced over at him, her gaze uncertain. “I understand there are games where wagers are placed on any number of things—from the card that leads to