The Wild Duchess/The Willful Duchess (The Duchess Club Book 1) by Renee Bernard Page B

room had taken note.
    “Truce?” he asked.
    “Were we at war?” Scarlett had to tip her head back to look up at him which only added to the dizzying sensation of being in Talon Rush’s arms. He was a masterful dancer, taking control of their progress effortlessly so that all she had to do was hang on. She had never given in to the physicality of a man before but there was no going back. “Was there a formal declaration of hostilities?”
    “Not really. Though I did corner you a bit into declaring how no woman could refuse the friendship of so honorable and illustrious a man, did I not?” He gifted her with a wicked smile. “So that makes us friends by default, Miss Blackwell.”
    “I said that?” She furrowed her brow, unhappily recalling that the words were hauntingly familiar, though she would have sworn in a court of law that she’d meant a bit of a sarcastic bite to them at the time. Scarlett couldn’t openly refuse armistice but she wasn’t sure that it wasn’t the greatest mistake of her existence to allow Talon Rush within twenty paces of her person. “How generous of me. Friends, then.”
    She smiled, determined to make a good show of it and by the first turn around the room, Scarlett couldn’t stop smiling. The delicious irony of dancing with the devil was just too perfect.
----
    T alon tried not to smile . Scarlett Blackwell was in his arms like a wild angel.
    “What are you thinking, Miss Blackwell? You look so pleased.”
    “I am thinking that you don’t like me, Your Grace, and yet we are dancing. How is that possible?”
    Talon meant to answer her quickly, to say something wry or cutting but as she looked up at him his heart skipped a beat. Because she was right. It wasn’t possible. He was losing his sense of purpose. Whatever malice he’d held when he’d called on her home days before was lost as they moved together around the room, each step in rhythm, her grace buoyantly making him feel as if he could not put a foot wrong. It was ridiculous but he had no desire to argue with the beautiful woman in his arms. None.
    “I cannot dislike you, Miss Blackwell, even if I wished to and I find that dancing with you is suddenly my fondest activity.”
    “I cannot believe that. You are not being honest.”
    “I am. It makes no sense but I find I would rather be doing nothing else. Let us make a pact, you and I, to always be honest with each other. What do you say to that?”
    “I say it is an odd request coming from a man who has made it clear he thinks I’m an interloper.” Scarlett lifted her chin stubbornly. “I take my pacts very seriously.”
    “I see your point. Well, then I will make a one-sided promise to be truthful—always.” He waited for her to either commend him for the offer or even reciprocate but instead she began to smile, a genuine sunny shift that sent his pulse racing.
    “I will have to test you. You realize this?”
    “I hadn’t actually expected it. I’m a man of my word and now apparently at your mercy.”
    “What an interesting development!”
    “Says the woman holding the reins,” Talon said softly. He deliberately spun her more dramatically on the turns subtly forcing her to cling to him a little tighter, to draw closer to him. It was a selfish maneuver but one that he relished. Scarlett Blackwell inspired a man to break the rules.
    “Tell me honestly, Your Grace, which do you prefer? London or the quiet of the countryside?”
    “It is unfashionable to say that I find hunting dull and tend to prefer the company of others and good conversation over the tedium of an estate’s routines. But there you have it.”
    “How remarkable!”
    “I should quickly add that I do not devalue my tenants or the lands that are in my charge but…when I am there, I am hardly expected to do much and it is tedious to sit and wait for dinner bells.”
    “Do you always do what is expected of you?”
    The question caught him off guard. “Naturally. Do you