The Second Shot (The Dueling Pistols) by Katy Madison Page A

room, is it not? But we shan't be disturbed. We hardly ever use the room, because the carvings used to scare Charles, and we got out of the habit. The rose drawing room is much more cozy."
    He didn't want to hear about her son with this Merriwether fellow. Although he empathized with his sentiments about the carvings "Mmmmm."
    "I shall redecorate it one of these days, but I have had no time to spare. It was like this when Layton bought the house for me."
    His blood curdled. He really didn't want to hear anything about her dead husband's gifts to her, either. "What is your request?"
    She bit her lip and then spit out, "I should like you to tell my parents you are affianced to me." She hesitated a moment while he grappled with what she said. "Again."
     
     
     
     

Chapter Six
    "No!" Tony jerked to his feet. His leg nearly faltered, and he ground his teeth, fighting for control, standing still instead of stalking to the door. "I have no desire to marry you."
    "I know that. I don't want to marry you. I want you to tell my parents that you intend to marry me, so they will go home."
    The scorn in her voice scorched him. He wasn't sure if her not wanting to marry him hurt worse than her vehemence about knowing he didn't want to marry her. He checked his emotions, the only thing he wanted from her was an affair. Engagements, pretend or otherwise, weren't worth thinking on.
    The silk of her gown rustled behind him. "I'm making a hash of this. I thought I'd have more time to explain. I don't want a public announcement. I couldn't possibly announce that I'm engaged. I'm still in mourning for another four months. I just want—"
    "An affair?" he swiveled around and stared at her. His leg was killing him, so he lurched forward to lean his weight against the back of the chaise longue, inches from where she sat primly on the edge.
    "No, absolutely not." Her eyes flashed, but she had much the guilty look of someone telling a falsehood.
    That passionate nature of hers would win out in the end. There was only one way to know for certain. He reached out and touched her cheek.
    Her breath spilled out. Bending toward her, he caught the tail end of her gasp against his mouth. A half-dozen years dropped away as his lips pressed against hers and her lips parted. She tasted sweet and tart—lemons?
    A cannonade of bombardment went off in his gut and lower. He'd missed her. No other woman ever made him burn the way she did.
    Her bonnet knocked him in the forehead, and he wanted to swing around from the back of the chaise and deepen the kiss. Yet he didn't want to fall on her, and his leg was giving him every indication that it would buckle the minute he tried to put weight on it.
    He pulled back. With her eyes closed she leaned toward him. He feathered a gentle kiss on the corner of her mouth.
    Her eyes popped open, and she pushed him back. "Stop it."
    "Certainly," he said, dragging his thumb across her fuller lower lip. He drank in the deep, soulful look in her brown eyes. He almost wanted to say yes to any request she made.
    "Listen. I've thought this out. If you pretend to be my fiancé, my parents will go home, and then, when you leave for India I shall just tell them you jilted me"—she frowned—"or I jilted you."
    "I think you've forgotten who jilted whom."
    Her eyes flashed. "I haven't forgotten." She pushed his hand away from her cheek.
    He folded his arms and leaned against the back of the chaise longue. He would get his answer before he left the house. Why had she jilted him all those years ago?
    "You see, when my parents wanted to come with me to London, I thought it would be beneficial change of scene for them. Society provides so many pleasant diversions for young and old, don't you agree?"
    She talked faster and faster, without waiting for his reply.
    "But now they think that the only reason I am here is to get a husband for myself. They are practically ignoring that I intend to present my niece. You know, they are ashamed of her