something, Your Grace. Do you find me at all … appealing as a woman?”
He appeared startled. “Forgive me. I suppose my offer sounds rather cold-blooded.”
“A bit, yes.”
That brought a glint to his eye. “Then perhaps this will set your mind at ease.” He reached up to catch her by the chin, then lowered his mouth to hers.
She held her breath. A kiss would certainly soothe her misgivings.
But as his lips touched hers, soft, coaxing … cool, she felt a stab of disappointment. It wasn’t that there was anything wrong with his kiss. It was just too …
Careful. Reserved. As if he were testing the waters. She didn’t want a man to test the waters with her. She wanted him to seize her in an impassioned embrace and show her in no uncertain terms that he found her desirable. That he wanted—
“I suggest you release the lady, sir,” growled a familiar voice, jerking her up short. “Or you won’t like the consequences.”
T HE SIGHT OF the duke taking liberties had made something boil up inside Jackson that he couldn’t suppress. He’d uncharacteristically acted on impulse, and already regretted it.
Because the duke now pulled back with the languid motion of all such men of high rank to fix him with a contemptuous stare. “I don’t believe we’ve met, sir.”
Jackson fought to rein in the wild emotions careening through him. Lady Celia was glaring at him, and the duke was clearly irritated. But now that Jackson had stuck his nose in this, he would see it out.
“I’m Jackson Pinter of the Bow Street Office. This lady’s brother has hired me to … to…” If he said he’d been hired to investigate suitors, Lady Celia would probably murder him on the spot.
“Mr. Pinter is investigating our parents’ deaths,” she explained in a silky voice that didn’t fool Jackson. She was furious. “And apparently he thinks that such a position allows him the right to interfere in more personal matters.”
When Jackson met her hot gaze, he couldn’t resist baiting her. “Your brother also hired me to protect you from fortune hunters. I’m doing my job.”
Outrage filled the duke’s face. “Do you know who I am?”
An eminently eligible suitor for her ladyship, damn your eyes. “A man kissing a young, innocent lady without the knowledge or permission of her family.”
Lady Celia looked fit to be tied. “Mr. Pinter, this is His Grace, the Duke of Lyons. He is no fortune hunter. And this is none of your concern. I’ll thank you to keep your opinions to yourself.”
Jackson stared her down. “As I said the other day, madam, there isn’t enough money in all the world for that.”
The duke cast him a considering glance. “So what do you plan to do about what you saw, sir?”
Jackson tore his gaze from Lady Celia. “That depends upon you, Your Grace. if you both return to the ballroom right now, I don’t plan to do anything.”
Was that relief or chagrin he saw on the duke’s face? It was hard to tell in this bad light.
“As long as you behave yourself with propriety around Lady Celia in the future,” Jackson went on, “I see no reason for any of this to pass beyond this room.”
“That’s good of you.” The duke offered Lady Celia his arm. “Shall we, my lady?”
“You go on,” she said coolly. “I need to speak to Mr. Pinter alone.”
Glancing from her to Jackson, the duke nodded. “I’ll expect a dance from you later, my dear,” he said with a smile that rubbed Jackson raw.
“Of course.” Her gaze locked with Jackson’s. “I’d be delighted.”
The minute the duke was gone, however, any “delight” she was feeling apparently vanished. “How dare you interfere! You should be upstairs searching my suitors’ rooms or speaking to their servants or something useful instead of—”
“Do you realize what could have happened if I hadn’t come along?” he snapped. “This room is private and secluded, with a nice hot stove keeping it cozy. All he would have had to