Page 35 of Never Dance with a Duke

Nicolette had never been properly kissed. Not in the fashion Mathias had so eloquently, so erotically, described.

All too soon, the waltz came to an end, the music fading, and she dimly realized they were near where they’d started. Before the magic of the dance and the moment had swept them away to a different time and place.

And still, they stood hands entwined, her palm upon his shoulder and his at her waist.

A nearby male coughed discreetly. “Westfall.”

What?

“Ahem.” The man loudly cleared his throat.

Nicolette struggled to gather her scattered wits and focus on her surroundings.

Mathias cut an impatient glance to his left, where the Duke of Sutcliffe regarded him with a faintly amused expression on his face.

The spell shattered, and with a jerk, Nicolette stepped away, blushing furiously.

Lord.

She couldn’t bear to look around and see who stared, who had seen her acting the love-struck ninny. “Please excuse me.”

Her gaze pointed to the ground, Nicolette swept onto the terrace, her only thought, to escape their scrutiny. Once out of sight of the ballroom, she released a huge pent-up breath then gulped in another of the bracing night air. And another.

Her head swam with a heady giddiness, sensual awareness, and, yes, the slightest iota of fear.

What, pray God, had just happened?

A tidal wave of emotion bludgeoned Nicolette.

She loved Mathias.

A tear squeezed its way out the corner of her eye and trailed down her cheek. She swiped it away, but another took its place.

Desperate, afraid someone would come upon her, she fled into the garden.

Lanterns and torches lit the tidy pathways and wrought-iron benches, creating a whimsical fairyland. She turned down one path and then another until she came to a fountain burbling in the center of a paved circle bordered by a quartet of stone benches. Statues of Greek gods and goddesses stood at attention between each ornate bench, their sightless eyes staring into the night.

The sweet, subtle fragrances of jasmine, peonies, roses, and several other early summer blossoms wafted by, adding to the enchanting atmosphere

Sinking onto the nearest bench between Apollo and Aphrodite, she put her fist to her mouth to curb her lower lip’s trembling.

Oh, God.

Nicolette didn’t know how it had happened, but she’d not been diligent enough, after all. Her guard had faltered. And somehow, Mathias, Duke of Westfall, had slipped behind her buttresses and had laid claim to her heart.

She loved him.

And not the schoolgirl infatuation she’d felt for Kilbourne.

No, this sentiment was a living, breathing, hypnotic maelstrom that commandeered every aspect of her. This was love. Real love. The kind she’d always dreamed of and had stopped believing in.

“Nicolette?” Mathias’s silky-smooth timber caressed her. “Darling, are you all right? You fled before I could speak with you.”

His smile was endearingly bashful. Charmingly vulnerable. And if she hadn’t already been in love with him, she’d have fallen in love at that moment.

She averted her face and shook her head. Struggling to regain her composure, she said, “I just needed a moment.”

A moment to come to grips with my love for you.