Free The Only One by Samanthya Wyatt Page A

His desires did not control him. This weakness astounded him. Never before had erotic thoughts commanded him. The girl was half his age, and beyond his reach. Considering a courtship with her was impossible. Especially with three brothers ready to protect their sister’s honor.
    “There you are.”
    He came to his feet with the speed of a panther. The very object of his deliberations stood before him.
    “Goodness, you’re quick,” Alex said. “You startled me.”
    “You’re the one sneaking up on people.” Damn. He hadn’t heard the girl. Seemingly, he’d let down his guard. Who thought he’d need it while basking in a moment of privacy-enjoying solitude?
    “I’m not sneaking. I thought you were asleep.”
    “So you decided to wake me?”
    “Maybe I just wanted to watch you.”
    Good God. The thought of Alex ogling his body while he slept sent a surge of blazing heat to his groin. On top of that thought pounced another. Would the chit restrain herself to mere looking?
    “Somehow I doubt that.”
    “You spend most of your time with my father, either in the library or touring the plantation. I hardly ever see you alone.”
    It was too dangerous to be alone with her. So he practiced avoidance. But he had seen her in the corridor, in the sitting room, at her mother’s elbow. She and her decorous aunt seemed to have their heads together a lot of late. He hadn’t missed Alex’s coquettish actions, either.
    “Why would you want to see me alone? Don’t you have your new stallion to keep you occupied?”
    “I want to spend time with you. I think you’re handsome.”
    Where had he slipped, thinking Alex demure? Giles scraped a hand over his face, wishing he could just as easily wipe her from his existence. “We’ve already had this discussion.”
    “I want to kiss you again.”
    This girl is a bloody loose cannon.
    “You should not be playing grown up games.”
    “I am not a child.” She angled her head and tilted her nose slightly in the air. Then ruined the effect by stomping her foot.
    He raised a brow and dropped his gaze to her boot before returning to her face—clearly signifying her very action did not support her statement.
    “You didn’t treat me like a child when you kissed me.”
    “Well laid plans gone awry,” he mumbled.
    “I’m not unschooled. Aunt Cornelia has taught me many things, and I’m a quick learner.”
    “Very well. What kind of things?” He’d appease her. Giles stretched to his full height.
    “Your English customs.”
    “Why are you bothering with those? You live here in the Americas.”
    “Aunt lives in England. Maybe one day, I will visit, or . . . live there, too.”
    “You aunt is quite a dame of the haute ton . One would do well to follow her example.”
    Her brow scrunched, as if making an important decision. “Will you sit and talk with me a while?” She bit her lip.
    “I should . . .” Get the hell away from her . But his gaze returned to the flesh caught between her teeth.
    “Please. I would love to hear about your home.” She sank gracefully to the ground, arranging her skirts around her, much as a young debutante would.
    “My home?”
    “Yes.” She glanced up at him with a stunning smile. “You are a duke. What does a duke do? Where do you live?”
    “I live in a house. Most of my day is spent in Parliament.” With his arms crossed, he stared at the bit of fluff on the grass.
    “Are you vexed with me?” She looked at him with wounded eyes.
    Now he felt guilt-ridden. Damned females, and their manipulative ways.
    “No, I’m not vexed with you.”
    Her mouth curved up in another blinding smile.
    He dropped on his arse and draped an arm on his propped knee, unwilling to admit how much her smile affected him.
    “I live in a house, too.”
    He glanced over and found a mocking expression on her face. He couldn’t hold back a response. His lips lifted at the corners.
    “If I were to tell you about my home, I would describe the rich land along