Read To Deceive a Duke for Free Online

get away. Had to escape from those crackling bonds before she exploded!
    She gave Averton a wide berth, yet not quite wide enough. Before she had even seen him move, he had caught her by the wrists, pulling her close to him. Startled, she dropped her dagger. It landed mere inches from his booted foot, yet he did not glance at it at all. He only watched her.
    As she stared up into his face, into the glow of his eyes, those bonds grew tighter and tighter. She could not breathe, could not move at all. She flexed her wrists in his grasp, the fingers of her right hand splayed out until she touched the very edge of his sleeve. The hot, smooth skin of his wrist. She felt the thrum of his pulse there, the tumbling rush of his life’s blood, and his heartbeat seemed to meld with her own.
    She heard the quick rush of his breath in her ear, smelled the clean, spicy scent of his skin. He was all around her, a part of her she could not escape, for truly he was not something outside, not a separate being she could run from, deny. He was inside her, part of her very breath and blood.
    She arched in his grasp, her head thrown back like Persephone’s as she tried to escape, tried to leap from the speeding chariot to safety. Escape, even as she longed to stay.
    ‘Then tell me what it is you want here,’ she whispered. ‘Why you came here to find me.’
    ‘Will you listen, then?’ he said hoarsely. ‘For once?’
    ‘I…’ she answered. ‘It depends on what you say, I suppose.’
    He gave a bark of laughter, his clasp loosening on herwrists. ‘Of course. Always conditions. Always wanting things your own way.’
    ‘Muses are as spoiled as dukes when it comes to that,’ she said. She raised her hand, still caught in that dream where she was not herself. She lightly touched the white scar with her fingertips, feeling the uneven ridge of it under her touch.
    He tensed, as taut as a bowstring, but he did not move away. Perhaps he was as enchanted as she was. She trailed her touch over his temple, the pulse that thrummed there; over his sharp cheekbone, the crooked nose Cam de Vere had once broken in some unspecified brawl. A loose strand of his hair, bright silk, brushed against her hand, clinging. She traced its wave until she found the curve of his lips.
    Her fingers hovered over them as they parted, and she felt his very life’s breath. How close, how very close…
    ‘Clio,’ he groaned. His arms came around her waist, dragging her against him until there was not even a whisper between them. She was a tall woman, nearly as tall as he, but she felt fragile as his hot strength wrapped around her and she was surrounded by only him. She looped her arms about his neck, making him her captive just as she was his.
    Their lips met, and there was nothing tentative or shy about the caress. It was quick, hot, desperate. A fervent need to be as one, to fall down into the dark myth and be lost for ever. That was what it was like when she kissed him—like being lost in the corridors of the underworld among all the shades, the misty illusions. She was a fool, an utter fool, to give in again. To reach for something that could only do her ill in the end.
    But neither could she turn away, any more than she could tear her own soul out.
    She dug her fingers into the fall of his hair, holding himto her as she felt the smooth leather of his gloved caress slide across her shoulders, skimming along her bare skin until she shivered. She leaned deeper into him, losing herself, losing everything…
    ‘Clio!’ he said, tearing his lips from hers. His hands tightened on her shoulders, pressing her back from him. ‘Clio, what am I doing? I did not come here to…’
    And the spell was broken, like one of those invisible cords that bound her to him. She stumbled away, still intoxicated with the smell and taste of him. With the bizarre alchemy that happened whenever they were close.
    She glanced away from him, covering her mouth with her trembling hands. She