Page 82 of Duke with a Desire

“It went as planned until it didn’t,” he said grimly.

“Good God. You’re not nursing a broken heart, are you?” Mal peered at him suspiciously, as if a stranger had suddenly appeared in his place.

Of course he was.

“Of course not,” he lied.

“I told you that you were in love,” his friend reminded him.

“And I told you that you were wrong,” he countered, watching as yet another man bowed and took his place with Phee.

“If I’m wrong, then why can’t you tear your eyes away from her?”

He swiveled his head to Mal. “I don’t know what you’re prattling on about.”

“Horse shite.”

Apollo glared at his friend. “You’re damned lucky I consider you like a brother to me, or else I’d be tempted to plant you a facer.”

Mal grinned. “Eh, you don’t frighten me. With these meaty fists of mine, I’d knock you to the moon.”

“Scots ancestry,” Apollo muttered, for whilst his hands were large, Mal’s were indeed massive in comparison. “Those bloody things are more like ham hocks than fists.”

“All the more reason for you to cease insulting me and confess.”

“I confess to nothing.” His eyes flitted to the couples dancing.

Phee twirled about. She was beautiful, her curves poured into a golden evening gown that looked as if it had been sewn onto her luscious body. She wasn’t smiling at her partner, but she didn’t look miserable either.

Look at me, he willed her. Look at me.

But she didn’t. She continued dancing. Continued playing her role, hidden behind that blasted mask, while he fumed and stewed in his own outrage by the wall.

“You’re doing it again,” Mal pointed out smugly.

“Doing what?” He forced his gaze from the throngs of couples on the dance floor.

“Watching our lovely hostess. You know, I don’t think she has glanced in your direction even once, old chap.”

“Thank you for noticing, old chap,” he ground out.

“You could be kinder to me.” Mal raised a brow. “I suffered through an orgy for your sake last night.”

Apollo bit out a dark chuckle at his friend’s attempt at levity. “I’m sure you suffered greatly.”

“It was exquisite agony. In the end, there were so many bodies writhing on the Axminster that it looked like a flesh sea.”

“Sounds perfectly dreadful.” He meant those words; nary a hint of sarcasm laced them. “I’m a greedy man. I don’t like to share.”

“And yet, it looks as if you are doomed to such a fate,” Mal pointed out as Phee’s partner spun her about and pulled her close.

Close enough that her breasts nearly brushed the bastard’s chest.

Apollo ground his jaw so hard he feared his molars would crack. But then, if they did, so what? The pain would likely be a welcome distraction. He had spent eight years longing for her from afar, and he hadn’t even held her in his arms for eight days. They’d had such little time.

“Perhaps you ought to find a lady for the evening,” Mal suggested quietly. “Someone to divert your attention.”

Apollo could find anyone he wished. No doubt Theodora would be eager for the chance to warm his bed, along with a number of other ladies in attendance. But Apollo didn’t want anyone else, and that wasn’t even the beginning of his problems.