Read Accidental Peers 03 - Compromising Willa for Free Online Page B

mothers all over Town who would be thrilled to have the Duke of Hartwell court their daughters.”
    “Your mother seems pleased enough.”
    “She tends to be swayed by a grand title, with little regard as to the character of the man who carries it.”
    “Brrrr.” He gave an exaggerated shiver. “I do believe a frosty gale has just blown over me.”
    Suppressing a smile, she inhaled, drawing his masculine scent into her lungs. He must have restrained from cheroots thus far today. He had that clean, strong—very pleasing—smell again. “As you can see, I am neither an impressionable young debutante nor a desperate ape leader to be toyed with.” Nor a strumpet who dallied with dukes because of a dented reputation. “So it seems you are wasting your time.”
    “On the contrary, I enjoy myself immensely in your company.” His midnight blue gaze perused her with open appreciation. “I’m even coming to appreciate the nippy air.”
    Perspiration beaded on her upper lip. Botheration, the man’s flirtations made her nervous and her insides seemed to be vibrating. “Is that why you mock me?”
    “Mock you? Not at all, though I must admit I enjoy sparring with you.”
    “If it is a sparring partner you seek, perhaps you should repair to the nearest boxing club,” she retorted.
    Hartwell laughed out loud, a full-bodied sound which rumbled from deep within his chest. He threw his head back, his profile emphasizing a strong nose and sharp-cut cheeks. Drawn to the sound of his laugh, she couldn’t resist a slight smile.
    “I assure you boxing is the furthest activity from my mind when I am with you,” he drawled.
    Willa’s cheeks and ears burned. He had an annoying knack of doing that to her. “Honestly, Your Grace.”
    “Please, you must call me Hartwell.” He cast her a sidelong glance. “Surely, we are well acquainted enough to dispense with this ‘Your Grace’ business.”
    “That would be improper as you well know.” She tried to ignore the way her heart danced around inside her chest. “I can endure your antics, but you are shamelessly toying with my mother.”
    He sobered. “I beg your pardon?”
    “Surely you have noticed she is quite taken with the notion that a duke might be interested in courting me at my advanced age. It is cruel of you to give her false hope.”
    Hartwell drew back. “I would never be deliberately cruel to a lady such as your mother. Why do you presume there is anything false in my pursuit?” Pulling the phaeton to a stop in the park, he turned to give Willa his full attention.
    The sincere interest shining in those dark blue depths prompted a glowing sensation in her chest, but she forced herself to remember Hartwell would soon learn the ton considered her to be damaged goods. The cool mask slipped back into place. “It appears, Your Grace, that your stay in India has left you quite behind the times.”
    …
    That evening, with his thoughts still full of the ice queen, Hartwell ventured out to Brooks, the London gentlemen’s club on St. James Street. So much about Wilhelmina Stanhope perplexed him.
    Your stay in India has left you quite behind the times. He’d seen Willa retreat back behind that impenetrable façade. What had she meant? Why did she assume his intentions were less than honorable? Clearly, she didn’t comprehend the depth of her physical appeal. Just a glance from those endless velvet eyes would bring any red-blooded man to a point. He had a mind to warm her right up, kindling a fire in those immense eyes. Anything to burn away the controlled, shuttered look she hid behind.
    Your stay in India has left you quite behind the times.
    A lady of her undeniable beauty shouldn’t still be unmarried at her age. Unless, of course, she’d waited for Bellingham. The thought of it roiled his gut.
    Arriving at Brooks, he strode across the club’s plush carpets into the gaming room where a fire roared in the immense marble hearth. The low murmur of voices, punctuated