Rescued By a Lady's Love (Lords of Honor, #3) by Christi Caldwell Page B

diamond and her future... Focus on that . Anything but on how this man set her teeth on edge and roused this peculiar stirring in her belly, all at the same time. Alas, she’d never been known for her self-control. “You’re about four inches too tall and a stone too wide—”
    The Duke of Blackthorne took a step around the desk. “Are you calling me fat, Miss Bennett?”
    “Mrs. Benedict.” She took a hasty step back. “No,” she said hurriedly. There was not an ounce of fat to his muscle-hewn frame. “Your nose is crooked.” As though it had been broken, and not just once. No doubt deserved.
    He snapped black eyebrows together. “Are you finished?”
    D o not say anything. Do not say anything. She shook her head. “And your hair is too long.” In an untamed, primitive way that gave him the look of a warrior of old. A shameful urge gripped her; a need to run her fingers through those midnight strands.
    “Is it now?”
    He sounded so thoroughly bored she wished she had another charge to level against his miserable countenance but came up remarkably empty. “D-Did I mention your crooked nose?”
    “You did.”
    Did she imagine the ghost of a smile on his lips? Surely she didn’t. Men such as this one did not smile or laugh or express any cheer. “Well, it bore repeating. Twice.” For the evidence of multiple breaks indicated he’d made a bother of himself on more than one occasion, which was not in the very least surprising. Except his inscrutable expression said her attempt at needling had little effect on the uncouth stranger who’d shout at his servants and curse and speak coarse words in front of young women.
    The towering duke folded his arms at his chest. “Is that all, Miss Benedict?” No, there was still the matter of the post she now sought. Then, this hardly seemed the appropriate time to bring up as much.
    She wet her lips. Goodness, he was imposing. There should be fear and yet, her heart fluttered wildly, instead.
    “Would you care to see my teeth?”
    To still the tremble racking her frame, she folded her arms in a like manner and eyed him contemplatively. “I believe I would.”
    He peeled back his lips to display two perfect rows of even, white teeth.
    Glorious . He was a glorious model of masculinity, harshly beautiful for the imperfections he bore. She’d die before even so much as hinting at that unfathomable truth. “Hmm,” she said noncommittally. It was a sin he should hide himself from the world.
    “You approve, then?”
    “All but the bottom front right.” She tipped her index finger at a slight angle. It was a blatant lie. “It is crooked.” But she’d be damned if she allowed him the final word in their duel of words.
    With a glower, the stranger snapped his mouth closed. At that dark, menacing look, a shiver stole through her. For her brashness moments ago, logic settled around her brain. This was not a man to be trifled with. Perhaps she’d gone just a tad bit too far in taunting this hulking stranger, a stranger whose aid she now sought. His silver-flecked gaze followed her subtle movement and lingered upon her breasts.
    She swallowed; registering too late she’d drawn attention to the deep décolletage of her sapphire blue gown. She folded her arms about her chest, hiding herself from his intense gaze. “Do you approve then?” she shot back, not knowing where she found the courage to toss those bold words at his smug face.
    “All but the right—”
    She jabbed her finger at him. “Don’t you dare.” She’d not be made light of. Not by this insolent stranger. Not by anyone. It was entirely awful enough she’d been found lacking on more scores than she cared to admit. She’d not be mocked by this scowling beast.
    “Are you issuing me a threat, Mrs. Benedict?”
    Again , Mrs. Benedict. Not Miss Bennett. And she suspected that substituted name was, in some way, a slight show of respect from this man. “No.” And as she’d never been one to prevaricate,