“Help with what? I don’t see how you’d be able to help anyone in the condition you’re in.” She straightened, moving away from him if only an inch or two.
She heard his rumble of protest a second before he spoke. “I beg your pardon.”
Her nose wrinkled in distaste. “Do you always drink enough to look like death or was Si and Cristina’s wedding a special occasion?” It was true. While it was obvious he was a handsome man, his blond hair was a sticking out at various angles while his shirt was wrinkled as though he’d slept in it the night before. He likely had. While the blue of his eyes were the color of the ocean on a sunny day, they were rimmed with red.
Of course, it didn’t hide his broad shoulders, muscular chest, and lean torso, but she mostly ignored that. And his putrid color helped to hide just how sinfully handsome he was.
“It is completely normal for men to drink the eve before a wedding,” he ground out.
“With the groom. Yes. But Si looks as though he got a lovely night’s sleep. In fact, I’ve never seen him look…fresher.” She turned again and let her eyes slip up and down him, her lips pursing. She knew she was antagonizing him in a way that she didn’t usually act with men. Well, with anyone really.
The problem is that Kenneth, though all his friends referred to him as Key, had made a bet that he would steal a kiss from her. It was a dastardly and rakish thing to do, make a bet like that. Though she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t considered allowing him to have that kiss. Not in this condition, of course.
But as she’d decided to stay unmarried, she’d thought she might collect one kiss in her life. A memory to look back on.
“If I hadn’t heard you patiently explain to your father where he was, I’d swear you were the most difficult woman in all of England.”
Difficult? She was being rather. “It’s true, I suppose and I may as well explain to you that I thought about allowing you to just kiss me, you know, to get this entire bet affair over and done.”
He turned even paler. “I have no intention of kissing you.”
Her eyebrows cocked as she let go of her father and spun about to really look in his eyes. “You’re not a rake who goes around kissing all sorts of women?”
One of his shoulders rose and fell. “I suppose I am. But not you.”
For a moment, those words hurt. She’d felt the sting of rejection from many men and he was far more handsome than most, even in his current condition. But she straightened her back and lifted her chin. “Well then, we are in agreement. You find me as lacking as I find you.” Then, whirling about, she laced her arm through her father’s. She didn’t want to talk with him ever again. He was poking at wounds inside her best forgotten, creating a riot of butterflies in her belly for some strange reason.
“Who said I found you lacking?”
* * *
Kenneth Kissinger crossed his arms over his chest as he assessed Victoria Ducat’s complicated coif. Her hair was twisted into an elaborate design at the base of her neck that did little to hide its glossy texture all the while highlighting the delicate column of her neck.
Her breath caught at his words, a breathy little sound that made his body tighten. “You just said that you had no intention of kissing me.”
“I don’t.”
Her head cocked back to look at him and then slowly she turned back to him. Her voice was prim, her words measured, carefully and thoughtfully weighed. But the lips that uttered them were complete sin. Full and plump, their pale pink color begged to be kissed. Her eyes were a dark, warm brown that sparkled in the morning light even as her high cheekbones flushed with color. She was breathtaking. “I don’t understand.”
He had the distinct impression that she usually understood everything. Did she know about the gypsy who had facilitated their bet? That the gypsy claimed kissing the Ducats was their fate? And his three friends before him—well, they’d kissed their Ducats and promptly married them.
Did she understand that he had no intention of marrying ever? He notched his chin down to give her a level stare. “I have no intention of ending up like Max, Rex, and Si.”
She blinked and then her mouth fell open as understanding widened her eyes. “You can’t think that if we kissed, we’d end up married?” She shook her head, a small humorless laugh escaping her lips.
He narrowed his gaze even as his fist clenched under his arm. “You cannot even entertain the possibility that we might marry?” He wasn’t used to women openly rejecting him like this. Her dismissal was annoyingly intriguing.
“Gads no.” She pressed her fingers to her cheeks. “I could never be with a man who drinks the way you do. It’s…unbecoming.”
Key stared at her, while his guts spilled out on the floor. Not literally of course. When had a woman’s rejection ever stung this much? Then again, when had a woman ever seen so completely through his façade and exposed his soft underbelly? Victoria already knew he wasn’t worth anything other than a good night’s drinking. He was next to useless. “Are you always so blunt? I find that rather unbecoming as well.”
He saw the momentary shift where her features pinched and her shoulders hunched before her face returned to a blank mask. “Then we are back to where we started. We find the other lacking. Good. No kissing for us and certainly nothing more.”
“Good,” he repeated, frowning. It should be good. He didn’t want to be swept away by a Ducat and certainly not this one, with her shrewd stare and her sweet lips. Even when drunk, women fell at his feet. They didn’t tell him he wasn’t good enough ever. He supposed that explained why he wanted to grab her and kiss her right now.
Also in this series:
How to Reform a Rake
Don’t Tell a Duke You Love Him
Meddle in a Marquess’s Affairs
Never Trust an Errant Earl
Never Kiss an Earl at Midnight
Make a Viscount Beg
Other Titles by Tammy Andresen
Want a free novella?
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Wicked Lords of London
Earl of Sussex
My Duke’s Seduction
My Duke’s Deception
My Earl’s Entrapment
My Duke’s Desire
My Wicked Earl
Brethren of Stone
The Duke’s Scottish Lass
Scottish Devil
Wicked Laird
Kilted Sin
Rogue Scot
The Fate of a Highland Rake
A Laird to Love
Christmastide with my Captain
My Enemy, My Earl
Heart of a Highlander
A Scot’s Surrender
A Laird’s Seduction
An Earl’s Forsaken Bride
Taming the Duke’s Heart
Taming a Duke’s Reckless Heart
Taming a Duke’s Wild Rose
Taming a Laird’s Wild Lady
Taming a Rake into a Lord
Taming a Savage Gentleman
Taming a Rogue Earl
Taming a Christmas Wallflower
Fairfield Fairy Tales
Stealing a Lady’s Heart
Hunting for a Lady’s Heart
Entrapping a Lord’s Love
Luring a Lady’s Love
American Historical Romance
Lily in Bloom
Midnight Magic
The Golden Rules of Love
Boxsets!!
Taming the Duke’s Heart Books 1-3
Taming the Duke’s Heart Books 4-6
American Brides
About the Author
More about Tammy
Tammy Andresen lives with her husband and three children just outside of Boston, Massachusetts. She grew up on the Seacoast of Maine, where she spent countless days dreaming up stories in blueberry fields and among the scrub pines that line the coast. Her mother loved to spin a yarn and Tammy filled many hours listening to her mother retell the classics. It was i
nevitable that at the age of 18, she headed off to Simmons College, where she studied English literature and education. She never left Massachusetts but some of her heart still resides in Maine and her family visits often.
What the Critics are saying:
“The characters are well-developed and interesting, the plot is edge-of-your-seat intriguing, and the setting is one with so much history. If you are a fan of history mixed with mystery and intrigue, you won't be disappointed.” Linda Thompson THE AUTHOR SHOW
“While the relationship between Lily and Eric is the primary focus of this story, the mystery/supense factor is what kept this from being JUST a historical romance. Lily in Bloom was a fast-paced, romantic read that I absoutely LOVED.” http://alysenovak.blogspot.com
”… it held not only a pure romance but the simple magic that goes with it. I was enchanted with this story from the beginning until the end and I didn’t want it to end. I wanted it to go on.” Robin
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Meddle in a Marquess’s Affairs: How to Reform a Rake Page 10
