Free Sins of a Duke by Suzanne Enoch Page A

Jersey, was rumored to be a mistress of the Regent, but that did not make her royalty.
    “How old are you, Your Highness?” one of them asked, her voice cool and condescending.
    None of your blasted affair . “Two and twenty,” she said aloud, remembering her father’s advice. Lose three years, and gain a duke—it seemed a fair-enough trade, though it was still entirely likely that the duke was more trouble than he was worth.
    “And how long do you plan to remain in London?”
    “That depends on my father the rey’s wishes,” she returned.
    One of them glanced beyond Josefina’s shoulder, then gave a tight smile. “We are pleased to welcome you to Almack’s, Your Highness. We do hope you enjoy your evening.”
    “Nod again, thank them, and we walk away,” Melbourne’s aunt whispered.
    Josefina nodded. “Thank you,” she said, and walked back into the crowd. There . She’d done it.
    “Well done, Princess Josefina,” a deep, masculine voice came from just off to one side.
    Her breath stilled. “Thank you, Melbourne,” she returned. “Is there somewhere I might get a breath of air?”
    “Certainly,” he said, moving up beside her and offering his arm again. “Don’t tell me that overset you.”
    “I am not overset,” she stated, wrapping her hand around his sleeve and allowing him to lead the way toward a doorway halfway down the length of the room. “It is stifling in here.”
    “It is that.”
    A large man blocked their path. “Melbourne, the—”
    His arm jerked a little, and she looked up at his face. Had that been annoyance? Whatever the expression, it was gone so quickly that she couldn’t be certain. “I’ll be with you in a moment, Shipley,” he said, moving around the obstruction.
    “Business?” she asked, her general antagonism toward him drowned by curiosity.
    “It’s always business. I hope your father realizes what he’s let himself in for.”
    They went through the crowded doorway, turned a corner, walked through another door, and ended up outside at what looked like a service entrance. A blank wall faced them across the alleyway, a narrow band of dark sky and dim stars above.
    “Not much of a view,” she said dryly.
    “No, but it is air.”
    It was also relatively quiet, and at this time of evening, private. “I don’t know about you,” she said, looking into gray eyes turned black in the gloom.
    “What don’t you know about me?”
    “You offer me good advice, then you practically cut me, then you gain me acceptance at Almack’s, insulting me once or twice in the process, then find me a quiet place where I can catch my breath.”
    “Ah,” he returned, humor in the brief word. “Let’s talk about you for a moment. You attack from all angles, like a troop of marauding huns. A jab here, a smile there, an arrow to my pride, and a javelin to my sensibility.”
    “And what does all that mean?”
    “You irritate me.”
    Josefina frowned. “Well, isn’t that nice to kn—”
    He tilted her chin up with his fingertips and closed his mouth over hers. Fire danced along her nerves. The Duke of Melbourne kissed with an intensity, a heat, almost adesperation, that she’d never encountered before. As stoic as he could be in conversation, his embrace overflowed, overwhelmed, with emotion.
    Her back thudded against the wall. Thoughts tangling, overlapping, receding, Josefina clutched his lapels, pulling him still closer. The amount of desire he had—it felt like faith he placed in her, faith that she could provide what he wanted. That was a new sensation, and it frightened the devil out of her.
    “Stop,” she gasped, the word muffled against his mouth.
    Slowly he pulled back, lifting his head. His expression—lust, need, arousal—burned into her. Just as swiftly, though, it was gone behind his mask of calm command. And it was a mask, she realized. With what roiled inside him, she was amazed he could fool anyone, much less everyone. What could he tell about her, from