Free Mary Blayney - [Pennistan 03] by Strangers Kiss Page A

the distance between them. “At least be honest enough to admit this: that our kiss lastnight reminded us there is life still to be lived. You are as afraid of what you feel as you are of what I can reveal about you.”
    His eyes brightened. Her own heart fluttered and she smiled at the undeniable draw she felt.
    “Signora, are you trying to seduce me?”
    Not dismay. It was pleased surprise she heard in his voice.
    “Provoking me is a unique approach.”
    “I am not seducing you, you arrogant fool. Is there nothing in your world between honest conversation and seduction?” She shook her head on a breath of annoyance and moved back into the room away from where he stood, away from his spell.
    “Leave then.” She waved a hand at him and wished he would disappear. He stayed at the door as if he had not understood that she was dismissing him.
    “So, you want me to leave because you do not want a lover.” The duke spoke as though he was trying to reason with a half-wit.
    “Yes. I assure you that if I wanted a lover, I could have had my pick tonight.”
    He let her statement hang in the air for a moment, so that it embarrassed her to have been so crass.
    “In fact, all you want from me now is the confession that I feel the attraction between us?”
    “Yes,” she said with some force. “Admit it. Be honest with yourself and admit that is the real reason you came to call so late in the evening.”
    He smiled, his eyes darkened, and his gaze droppedto her lips. She stood very still as he took a step so they were closer than propriety would tolerate.
    He did not touch her, but her lips tingled. He raised his eyes to hers.
Yes, I do want you. I want to undress you with more than my eyes, to hold you with more than my gaze, to touch more than your hand
.
    It was the truth that she had demanded but with it came a hunger that was as exciting as it was surprising. This man, whose face rarely showed any of what he was thinking, could excite her with no more than his gaze. Attraction was too weak a word to describe what she felt. She looked away, afraid of what he could read in her eyes.
    “Good night once again, Signora Verano.” Taking her hand, he bowed over it, did not kiss it or even caress her palm.
    Meryon was halfway to the door before he turned, bowed again, and spoke one last time. “When you are ready to take a lover, signora, do let me know.”

8

    M ERYON THOUGHT about Elena Verano all the way back to Penn House. His imagination played with wild fantasies of taking her then and there in her salon, of claiming her before any other man realized that her singing revealed only a little of the passion awaiting a lover.
    Instead of ensuring her cooperation, he’d aggravated her, nearly driven her from the room.
    He could still see her standing there, her elegant body calling to him as surely as her righteous anger ordered him to leave, then saying she did not want a lover, but insisting that he acknowledge the attraction.
    Shifting on the seat, he pretended his arousal made him uncomfortable. But, if he thought honestly, he would have to credit Signora Verano with another truth that made him as restless as a schoolboy called to account.
    He’d behaved without examing his reasons carefully, not even considering the propriety of such a late-night call. He’d acted on impulse, damn it. He thought he’d done with that when he left his twenties.
    Penn Square was dark and quiet, though most of the houses were still alive with light. The Penn House night porter came out promptly, lowered the steps, and bowed to him with a comforting familiarity. Meryon nodded, still lost in thought.
    He’d gone to her house without understanding the true reason why. Yes, he did need to protect his reputation, but he could have done that far more discreetly. He could have waited for a more opportune time.
    Halfway across the great hall to the staircase, the porter’s cough distracted him.
    “Your hat, Your Grace?”
    “Oh, yes.” He