Read Online The Promise in a Kiss by Stephanie Laurens - Free Book Online Page B

fraught. Lifting her chin, she met his gaze. His eyes were hooded, so blue they seemed to burn. Her nerves flickered, senses older than time screaming that she was baiting something wild, unpredictable—something well beyond her control.
    Dangereux .
    Marjorie’s warning whispered through her mind.
    â€œWere.”
    A statement uttered in a flat tone she had not before heard. He held her with his gaze; she couldn’t break free.
    Raising a hand, he slid one long finger beneath her chin and tipped her face to his. He studied her expression; his gaze fastened on her lips, then rose once more to her eyes. “Has it not yet occurred to you, mignonne, ” he murmured, “that you could do a great deal better than a mere marquess?”
    Helena felt her eyes flare, in shock, in reaction to what she sensed rather than knew. His fingertip was cool beneath her chin; his blue eyes were hot, his gaze heated.
    Her heart thudded, racing—then a commotion behind him drew her gaze.
    At the edge of the crowd, Marjorie shook free of Louis’s restraining grip; from her frown and the quick word she threw him, he’d been holding her back. Twitching her shawl into place, Marjorie swept forward.
    Sebastian had turned his head and looked; his hand fell from her face.
    â€œ Ma petite, it is time we left.” Marjorie shot him a censorious look, then turned to Helena, her expression determined. “Come.”
    With barely a nod to Sebastian, Marjorie swept away.
    Puzzled, Helena curtsied, then, with one last glance at Sebastian and a murmured adieu, she followed Marjorie.
    As she glided past him, Louis was scowling.

Chapter Three

    H E was the only unmarried duke she’d met. Helena tried to make sense of his last comment; it kept her awake half the night. But he couldn’t mean himself. He’d declared years ago he would not wed. She couldn’t see why he would change his mind. He might want her—she accepted that, although she didn’t, truth be told, entirely understand such predatory desire—but to his mind, to his way of thinking—to society’s way of thinking—he could have all he wanted without marrying her.
    Not that she had any intention of allowing that to come to pass, but he didn’t know that.
    He must have meant something else, yet no matter how she twisted his words, no matter how much she discounted the effect he had on her and any consequent misconstruction, she still couldn’t explain the intensity that had flared—that had echoed in his tone and burned in his eyes.
    She was relieved that his appointment in Twickenham meant she’d be free of him for the day.
    It didn’t help. Evening arrived and she was still confused, still wary. Still feeling like a doe in a hunter’s sights.
    The argument between Louis and Marjorie on the way to Lady Hunterston’s ball was an added distraction.
    â€œYou’re making too much of it.” Louis sat back, arms folded, and stared blackly at Marjorie. “If you meddle needlessly, you will damage her chance of making a proper match.”
    Marjorie sniffed and pointedly looked out the carriage window.
    Helena inwardly sighed. She was no longer so sure Majorie wasn’t right, despite what logic told her. Logic couldn’t explain the power she’d felt last night.
    On entering Lady Hunterston’s ballroom, Helena kept Marjorie with her and determinedly quartered the room. She found Lord Were by the card room; the group about him parted readily to allow them to join.
    The topic under discussion was the imminent demise of Lord Were’s uncle, the Marquess of Catterly.
    â€œI’ll have to head north tomorrow,” Were told them. “The old reprobate’s been asking after me. Seems the least I can do.”
    He grimaced as he said it; Helena considered his attitude as a black mark against him—then realized whom she was comparing him with. She thrust the comparison