To Dare the Duke of Dangerfield Read Online Free PDF Page A

be a gambler or a man who enjoyed any game of chance. And, last of all, he would love her above anyone else. No mistress. No other woman. He would have a true heart and forsake any other pleasure.
    Caitlin wanted love—true love—and this desire was the reason she thought she’d never marry. She didn’t know if true love even existed.
    Would she ever find a man who would cherish her, and appreciate the fact she’d trusted and gifted him her virginity?  
    A shiver skittered down her back. A man like Dangerfield did not understand the word ‘love’. Nor did he value a woman for anything other than his pleasure, or for begetting his heir. He would not appreciate her gift in his bed. In fact, Larissa was probably right. He’d scorn her inexperience. He’d be disappointed in her.
    Oh, he would pleasure her and himself, of that she was sure. But pleasure was fleeting. He’d soon move on, and think nothing more of the woman he’d bested in a dare, taken to his bed, and discarded as soon as he had what he wanted.
    Something of her thoughts must have shown on her face, for Dangerfield turned his head to the window and the approaching dawn.
    “There is still time to halt all this foolishness,” he said, quietly. “Go home and accept your circumstances, for if you agree to the wager I cannot stop until I have won. I give you fair warning. If you value your reputation, or if the idea of sharing my bed holds such revulsion for you, leave.”
    She shook her head and stood straighter. “I will have my house.”
    He gave her a searching look. “So be it. You’ve made your bed, young lady. I pray you are prepared to lie in it.”
    “Cake baking!”  
    Caitlin jumped at Larissa’s sudden cry and tried to conceal her horror. She’d never cooked anything in her life. She didn’t really take much notice of food. Cook always said she had the appetite of a sparrow.
    Dangerfield drew himself up. “I beg your pardon?”  
    Marcus was laughing so hard tears appeared in the corner of his eyes.
    Larissa turned to her and winked. “You will both bake a cake, and the best cake wins.”
    “No,” Dangerfield snapped. “Absolutely not.”
    He didn’t want the challenge so Caitlin jumped at it. “I do not believe you have the right of veto.”
    “She’s right. We only granted her the right of veto; it does not apply to you,” Marcus chortled.
    Larissa stood with hands on hips. “Well, do you agree?”
    Caitlin took her time and studied Dangerfield. He tried to school his features, but she saw real annoyance—and something else—hidden there. He stared her down, trying to make her nervous. He wanted her to veto the task.  
    She smiled for the first time that evening. She might not be able to cook but she knew where to find an excellent teacher. “The wager is perfectly acceptable.”
    Dangerfield rolled his eyes. “Christ.” And threw his hands in the air.
    “Who is going to judge this cake off,” Henry asked.
    Caitlin and Dangerfield exchanged glances.
    “The vicar?” Caitlin had no idea where the idea came from but she thought the vicar a fair man.
    Every eye fixed on her in disbelief.
    “Are you mad?” Dangerfield said. “I can’t ask the vicar to judge this wager.”
    “Guilty conscience,” she taunted.
     
    “Not at all.” Dangerfield ran his hand over his nape and felt like punching Marcus’s amused face. He did have a guilty conscience, and that’s what worried him. “But, while I may be lecherous I put my foot down at involving the church in the affair.”
    Marcus coughed. “The vicar doesn’t need to know why he’s judging the cakes. You could say you’d like to appoint a new cook and you’d be honored if he would pick the best cake. We’ll think of something.” Marcus stood, walked to the sideboard, and then rummaged in a drawer before turning around to face them, a fresh pack of cards in his hand. “In the meantime, I’ve thought of a way to decide which challenge is completed