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

in Caitlin‘s direction. “Over a mile as requested. I shall pick the course, the starting point, and the end point.”
    She frowned, doubting his motivation. “I’m not sure I trust you. It must be run locally.”
    “I think it’s a trifle late to start negotiating terms. You agreed to race Harlow over a mile. You didn’t specify where the race was to take place.”
    She sent Henry an appealing look, but he simply shook his head and held up his palms. Marcus Danvers was right. She had forgotten to specify terms. She swallowed down her plea.  
    The handsome Marquis was enjoying her discomfiture. “I’m open to persuasion,” he murmured, a sensuous smile on his lips as he moved to stand before her. Taking her hand, he raised it to his lips and pressed a long kiss to her knuckles. “I find it difficult to deny a beautiful woman anything.”
    Before she could respond, Dangerfield was at her side prying her fingers from Danvers hold. “That’s enough, Marcus. She is not a toy to play with.”
    “But perhaps a woman to fight over, eh?” Marcus replied with a light laugh. “My, we seem rather possessive for a man who, in the last ten years, has shown no interest in a lady of quality.”  
    While the men argued, Caitlin took the opportunity to move toward the door. There was nothing more to be gained here. She’d accomplished what she’d set out to do—obtain a chance to win Mansfield Manor back, and right the wrong her father had perpetrated against her.  
    Once at the door she cleared her throat. “Good evening, gentlemen.”
    Lords Danvers and Dangerfield stopped their low-toned discussion and Henry stood.
      “I’ll see you out,” he said. “Shall we say mid-afternoon at my lodge to begin the lessons?”  
    Dangerfield looked at Larissa, and then back to Caitlin. His eyes bored into hers and she felt her heart squeeze in her chest as he gave a dazzling smile. “I should be compos mentis by then.”
    She hated the spear of jealousy that lodged in her chest. Why should she care that the heartless rake would no doubt spend the rest of the night with Larissa in his bed? She had to stop this ridiculous hold he had on her senses. There was no way she could win if she couldn’t think straight.  
    “I shall look forward to teaching you—many things—over the course of the week.” His voice, filled with a husky promise of all things decadent, plucked its way down her spine.
    Caitlin sent up a silent prayer for forbearance. What an impossible man! It was difficult to concentrate when he stood there looking so rumpled, and unrepentant, and utterly gorgeous. Her eyes kept sliding towards the sliver of tanned neck and chest exposed by his open shirt. The absence of a civilizing cravat or a waistcoat lent him a reckless air of danger.
    She’d best remember that when one played with fire the burns hurt. Her stomach pitched; her hands trembled. Her heart seemed to have slipped its moorings and anchored in her throat.
    Lord help her. She tried to resist but she couldn’t stop herself from taking one last lingering look at his chest.
    “Lady Southall?” The amusement in his voice told her he knew exactly what she was thinking, and the effect he had on her.  
    Her face flooded with heat. She straightened and held her head up high. “I look forward to teaching you how to lose—and I don’t care if it’s gracefully—just so long as you lose.”
    With that she swept from the room as majestically as she could, given her attire.  
     
    Little did she know that three pairs of eyes followed her departure with a great deal of male appreciation.  
    Henry flashed a smile at the other two men before following Caitlin from the room and closing the door.
    “Larissa.” Dangerfield held Marcus’s amused gaze. “Go to bed. It’s late and I have some things to discuss with Marcus and Henry.”
    She pouted but did not contradict him, no doubt sensing his mood. That’s what he liked about her. She knew when to