“It hardly matters now,” she said with a shrug and a dismissive wave. “You have confirmed it was true. I cannot even say why I mentioned it. I do not care.”
But she might.
The possibility pleased him dangerously. Even aware of that fact, when he felt her physically drawing away, he said, “Guin, listen to me.”
“Why sh—”
“Because,” he interrupted, knowing she would argue.Because maybe they had both been fools.“Aye, when my father saw me looking at ye the night we met, and he said I was not to pursue ye, my first thought as I left his side and went to ye was to pursue ye just to spite him. But within a moment of speaking with ye, that was not my thought anymore. I was struck by yer beauty, yer wit, ye—”
“Oh, yes,” she said, her words dripping with sarcasm, “I can quite recall how my beauty and wit struck you. Why, my charms hit you so hard that they knocked you straight into Elizabeth’s arms!”
“That is not what drove me into Elizabeth’s arms,” he snapped, realizing how damned foolish his words were, how they could be misconstrued, when Guinevere’s jaw went slack.
“My point precisely,” she snapped. “But thank you for reminding me how I pale in comparison to Elizabeth.”
Devil take it.Asher shoved a hand through his hair once more. This was not going well at all. He had no more information now than he’d had at the start of the day on if Kilgore currently had a claim on Guinevere, and he doubted she would be honest with him in her current state of vexation. What he had uncovered, or at least he thought he had, was that she had once cared for him. He didn’t even bother denying that it pleased him. Then he thought of the kiss they had shared in the library and the passion he believed had simmered between them. A kiss could tell a man a great deal, and if Guinevere responded to him as she had in the library, he didn’t see how Kilgore could hold a claim on her truly.
“I’m finished with this hunt!” she announced and shoved the paper she’d been holding into his chest.
He grabbed her by the wrist and brought her hard against him, circling his arm firmly around her back and threading his other hand into her hair.
“What are you doing?” she whispered, her eyes wide.
“Getting answers,” he growled and then lowered his mouth to hers to claim her lips.
She stiffened at first, but then, almost immediately, her lips became soft and her body relaxed. When he traced his tongue over the crease of her lips and she opened for him with a soft whimper, exaltation rushed through his veins. He forgot that he wanted answers. He forgot Kilgore. He forgot everything but the beguiling, frustrating woman in his arms.
Her strawberries-and-cream taste. Her scent of lilies. Her silky hair between his fingers. Her soft body pressed so invitingly to his.
He wanted her. Yes, she was a weakness, but in this moment, he didn’t give a damn. His blood pounded through him, urging him to kiss her deeper, harder, to lay claim to her and demand she respond. And she did. Good God, she did. Her body arched toward his, and she made the most seductive mewling sounds as she met the ravaging of her mouth with a hunger of her own. He tasted her desire. He felt it. He heard it.
Even as a knock came at the garden door and a woman’s voice called out, he did not release her.
When another woman’s voice joined the first, he broke the contact of his lips with Guinevere’s, but he kept a gentle hold on her elbow, not ready yet to totally let her go.
“Open the door!” came a voice he now recognized as Lady Lilias’s.
Guinevere’s hands went to her hair and then over her dress, scrambling to right the mess he’d made. He drank her in, unable to look away. She looked radiant and well kissed. Her cheeks were rosy, her lips swollen, and a flush had crept over her chest.
“Open this door at once!” came Lady Vivian’s voice next. “Our hunt has led us here, and it’s not fair to win the treasure hunt by locking doors!”
He knew he couldn’t keep Guinevere in here alone, but he wanted to. Whatever claim Kilgore did or did not have on her affections, there was something undeniable between them, just as he’d believed there had been years ago. So why had she pretended otherwise? Why had she kissed Kilgore that night on the balcony? It shouldn’t matter to him, but he found he could not go forward with pursuing her until he knew the answers. And what did that mean, then? Was he pursuing her to save his company or to resurrect a dead dream of what could have been?
Later that night, Asher tried to pay attention as Lady Longford prattled on about all the attributes Lady Constantine had that he might find pleasing, but his mind was on Guinevere and nothing else. He had not seen her since the treasure hunt had ended, and he had not been alone with her since they’d been interrupted by her sister and Lady Lilias in the rose garden.
He cut his attention from Lady Longford and made a quick scan of the parlor, which was filled with all the guests awaiting the dinner bell. All the guests, that was, except Guinevere and, most notably to Asher,Kilgore. Where was she? And where the hell was Kilgore? It still irritated the devil out of him that Kilgore had won the treasure hunt and claimed Guinevere as the person he wished to be partnered with for skits the following day.
Asher hated that Kilgore had outmaneuvered him, and he damn well hated that it mattered to him at all whether she was pleased about Kilgore choosing her or not. And since she’d begged off immediately after the announcement, pronouncing a horrible megrim, he had not gotten a chance to speak with her to secure more answers.
This afternoon, as Kilgore had stared at Guinevere like he was a wolf and she was his next meal, it had occurred to Asher that it could be Kilgore pursuing her, and perhaps it had always been that way, despite what Elizabeth had told Asher. Elizabeth had been a damn liar so it stood to reason that she had been untruthful about Guinevere, too. Or it could be that he had become a fool once again? He was supposed to be here making the business decision to pursue and wed for necessity.
He forced his gaze back to Lady Longford, who still droned on about Lady Constantine, who offered him another apologetic smile.
“Mother,” she broke in when Lady Longford finally paused to take a breath, “Lady Barrowe is waving at you. Shall we see what she needs?”
Lady Longford looked in their hostess’s direction with a frown. “I’ll attend her. You stay here and chat with His Grace.”
“Mother, I’m certain the duke does not wish to—”
