“Anything but a scene, Your Grace.” She curtsied, but he couldn’t help but feel it was a mocking tone.
What did he care? Finish the curtsy and be gone. He had a bet to work on.
The woman stood and glared at him with the clearest blue eyes he had ever seen. And then she was gone.
Thank God. He sighed and started to head toward Lady Simone.
“Ahem,” Samuel cleared his throat, suddenly appearing beside him. “Aren’t you going to ask her to dance?” He smiled coyly. “Oh, I see, you’re playing a game first. All the power to you.”
“What game? What dance?” Wesley furrowed his brows.
Samuel merely flicked his wrist toward the woman with the lemonade splattered hem.
“What about her?” Wesley didn’t have time for this. He needed to go bump into Lady Simone.
“She’s the one you bumped into first, isn’t she?”
Panic shot through Wesley. Pure, undiluted panic. It rippled up from his toes and settled between his shoulders.
“That. Was. Not. A. Bump.”
“You backed up into her elbow did you not? Physical contact was made and all that.” Samuel was grinning like a lunatic. Like a triumphant lunatic.
“I’m telling you, it wasn’t a bump.”
“No? What would you call it?” Samuel turned to Chris and James, both mirroring each other’s expression. That is, tight lips and raised brows. “Chris? James? Was it a bump?”
“I’m staying out of this one,” Chris said.
James merely shrugged. “Could have been.”
“It wasn’t a bump,” Wesley maintained for the third time. As if saying something three times made it true. “It was a thunk.”
Samuel belted a laugh. “That’s classic.” He slapped Wesley on the shoulder. “Twisting the bet to your favor at your whim.” He shook his head. “I should have known that you would renege.”
“I’m not reneging on anything,” he spoke through gritted teeth. “If you want to call that a bump,” he forced the words out, “then call it a bump.”
“I did.” Samuel shot the three a wide grin. “I declare that was a bump.Thebump. Let’s be clear.” His eyes narrowed. “That’s the lady.”
Thatthunkapparently had beenthe bumpthat sealed Wesley’s fate.
*
What the duke?The pompous invective echoed in Boudicca’s ears like a gong being repeatedly hit over and over again, not even giving time for the reverberations to complete their rounds. What kind of arrogant arse was vain enough to curse using his own title? Of all the haughty, self-important, egotistical things she had ever heard, that had to sit at the top. In fact, it sat high above the rest. For a man to equate himself to a deity…it rankled, and it rankled deep. Deeper than the shivering that had shot through her when he grabbed her hand. Deeper than where that shot had settled between her thighs.
Ugh. That man. That duke. Her sisters could choose any duke except that one, and she would play along. Of course she would be steering him ultimately to a rejection, but she would play along with her sisters’ dare just long enough to satisfy them.
“Bodi,” Mimi squealed in her ear. “The Duke of Baskim. Aiming high. I love it.”
“I’m not aiming for the Duke of Baskim.”
“Who are you going to snag then?” Nobi queried.
“No one,” she answered before she thought it through.
“But you said you would do the dare first. You can’t back out now. It’s not even been five minutes.” Mimi’s eyes were hard and her jaw was set. “You’re supposed to be our example.”
It hadn’t even been five minutes? Ha. It felt as though it had been five hours. There was no duke on her mind for herself.
