Her spine exploded with a sharp, electric jolt. “With one look you can tell these men are dangerous.” The way they moved, it was like watching predators. Strengh combined with grace. The tension, the raw power, it could rob a lady of her breath!
Beside her, Dare shifted closer. “Not for you.”
“For any woman, I’d imagine.”
His eyes burned into her. Leonora pretended not to notice but she couldn’t help the corner of her mouth inching upward. Was Dare jealous? It couldn’t be. Yet she could practically taste the sourness exuding from the man.
“Jealousy doesn’t become you, Lord Dare.”
His stormy blue gaze burrowed deeper into her. “I’m not jealous.”
Leonora shrugged. “Believe what you will.”
“Believe whatyouwill.”
Was the man a child? Goodness. His petulance didn’t feel all that bad, though. However, Leonora ignored his “whatyouwill” and directed her focus and keeping her mouth in place when all it wanted to do was split into a huge grin. “Then I will believe it to be true.”
Another grueling punch made her attention jerk back to the reality of the match where her gaze was immediately arrested again by the expanse of rippling muscles.
Just enjoy the sight.
There was something primal about two men, shirtless, fighting with bare knuckles, and blood dripping from their wounds. And there was probably something wrong with her for enjoying it this much!
Too soon, the match ended with the scarred man—Drake Fury—standing over his opponent. The winner.
“What a fight,” Leonora murmured. So, so,sohandsome.
A loud, exaggerated snort. “Hold this.”
Leonora blinked and looked down at the cravat and waistcoat that had suddenly appeared in her hand. She blinked again before her gaze slowly turned to Dare. When had he removed these items? “What are you doing?”
“Boxing.”
Her lips parted and shut. Well, this certainly was a different dance to a different tune!
And then he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it into her arms and walked out into the arena.
Leonora’s jaw dropped.
Her eyes raked over the muscles that rippled across his chest with each step.
Holy heaven.
She would never have imagined that such a body hid beneath his fine gentleman’s clothes. Her imagination hadn’t even comeclose to matching the sight! But she couldn’t admire him for long. Her gaze caught on someone in the crowd just beyond him.
Her.
The Duchess of Crane.
*
Dare strode upto his cousin, rolling his shoulders and flexing the muscles in his arms. Though his body wasn’t as imposing as Drake’s, he wasn’t without his own strength. He could hold his own. Boxing was all about footwork, after all, and that was where he excelled. While his cousin had the raw power and brute force, he possessed a level of elegance in his stance that his cousin lacked.
He could match Drake step for step.
It was the question of why he thought to do so that he’d rather not dwell on. If he pulled on that thread, it might unravel his confidence stepping into this spontaneous fight.
“What are you doing?” Drake asked, sizing him up from head to toe.