A Virgin for the Rakish Marquess (In War and Love #3)

Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

Battle of Wills

J ames was avoiding Diana. He deliberately made the herculean effort not to seek her out. Even Richard noticed that and didn’t once mention her name.

James knew she was there. He had made such a foolish display of how they would see each other at this ball. It was…

Blast it! He had promised her. But he could not keep his promise, not tonight.

Tonight, he was James Bolton, the Marquess of Crawford, the son of the Duke of Pemberton. He was his father’s son, bound by duty. His focus had to be on keeping away the vultures coming to pick at his father like the carcass-hungry nobles they were. He couldn’t leave Solomon’s side, and if he would even glance Diana’s way, he was risking doing exactly that.

He breathed a bit easier since Richard rushed to his side to offer his open support and Lord Ashford came to cordially greet Solomon.

Still…

“Lord Crawford.”

James turned to find Selina standing in their little guarded group. “Your Grace.”

“Duke,” Selina greeted his father respectfully before turning to her husband. “Richard, I am sure you are utterly delighted to see an old friend, but leaving me alone by the ballroom was cruel.”

“I left you with your sister.” Richard was careful not to mention Diana’s name.

James hated that his friend knew him well, but he had not expected to hate the words coming out of Selina’s mouth more.

“Well, Diana hasn’t stopped dancing all night.”

James looked down at his friend’s wife, only to find her smiling at him. His head snapped toward the dance floor, and sure enough, there she was. Diana was in the center of it. Dancing. With someone. Someone else. Someone that wasn’t him.

James knew it shouldn’t matter. He had three more promenades with her and nothing more. He was her tutor, not her suitor. If anything, he should be proud of the outcome of their brief lessons. Diana was blooming in front of the whole ton, who watched as if pure magic was unraveling.

She was so dazzlingly radiant and effortlessly charming. She was a flame, and all the moths were drawn to her, hypnotized. This was his doing. His words, his hands, and his body broke the shell Diana was hiding in, pulled at the thread of her cocoon till she emerged.

He should be smiling as he watched her have the time of her life, enjoying the attention and the pleasure of being wanted. He should be admiring his masterpiece. Instead, his hand tightened around the glass he had drained too many times, and his jaw was so tense that he could hear his teeth crack.

“Are you all right, Crawford?” Richard teased.

“Go dance with your wife, Seymour,” James hissed as he watched another enchanted gentleman bow to Diana.

He heard Richard’s light chuckle. He listened as his father spoke with old acquaintances. But just as he feared, all his attention was focused on her. Hers wasn’t focused on him, though.

One after the other, men tripped over themselves to dance with her. She rejected no one, as if making up for lost time. And all the while, she hadn’t let her eyes drift away. She smiled so widely, and at some point, someone probably said something pretentiously hilarious or safely daring, for she gasped.

It was not a real gasp. Not like the one she let out when he moved his lips over her neck and tasted her skin. James was sure that no one could make her feel that way. But the sheer fact that she allowed them to even try…

James turned to refill his glass.

“Now, that I didn’t expect,” Richard commented, mostly to Selina.

James saw him. From across the ballroom, Lord Ainsley made his way to where Diana was standing. If James’s name was whispered in secret by the ladies and uttered in terror by the matrons, Lord Ainsley’s was spoken like a prayer. He was perfect in every way. Healthy, wealthy, and utterly safe. There wasn’t a single father or mother in this room who didn’t dream of seeing him court their daughters. And now he had set his sights on Diana.

“I wouldn’t be surprised to see him call on her soon. He never shows open attention like that,” Selina noted.

James couldn’t help but glare at her. Sure, she was his best friend’s wife, but right now she was dangerously flirting with becoming his worst enemy.

“What is wrong, Lord Crawford?” Selina smiled that mischievous smile of hers.

Richard should have married anyone but this menace. But from the look he was giving her—a look of absolute devotion—James knew that there was never another option.

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry. I am sure Diana will uphold her commitment to your promenades,” Selina added.

At the mention of their promenades , of their private lessons, James turned to watch the dancing couple that had the complete attention of the ton. His eyes darkened with wicked thoughts.

Yes, Lord Ainsley was perfectly safe. But James knew Diana. And Diana didn’t want safe. Diana wanted daring and challenging, bold and confident. She wanted dangerous. He was dangerous.

So, he waited like the skilled predator he was. He knew that no matter how much she smiled at whatever the man was telling her, no matter how invested she seemed in their conversation, she saw the truth. The unshakable, inescapable truth.

He is not me.

The moment that thought came to James’s mind, it was as if he summoned her.

Diana turned her head and immediately spotted him through the crowd. Their eyes met. The air between them became thicker, charged. James’s gaze sharpened, dark and knowing, filled with something sensual.

And Diana caught it. It was in her sharp intake of breath and the twitching of her fingers, which were resting on Lord Ainsley’s shoulder.

My turn, little wallflower .

“Richard,” James said, his eyes still trained on Diana, “do not leave my father alone.”

“Where are you going?”

James set his drink aside and smirked. “To change the game.”

And then he moved.

“Dance with me.”

It wasn’t a request. It wasn’t a plea. It was a statement.

Diana slowly turned to him and looked first into his eyes and then at his proffered hand. He sensed her internal battle, the urge to refuse him, the inability to do so. And then something else flickered in her eyes. Defiance.

Oh, a little chase.

“I am afraid my dance card is full, My Lord.” Diana blinked slowly.

“And I am afraid I must insist.”

“You are terribly demanding this evening, Lord Crawford,” she murmured.

“You are terribly defiant this evening, Lady Diana,” he countered.

He caught it, that little smirk on her lips, the one that told him she was intrigued. Truly alive.

“I suppose one dance wouldn’t hurt,” Diana relented and accepted his hand.

He pulled her a little bit closer and whispered, “I beg to differ, My Lady.”

He led her to the dance floor, and he pressed her to him. Diana inhaled sharply but schooled her expression as she placed her hand on his shoulder. She was mad at him, but this was delicious .

“I am pleased that you managed to make time for me on such a busy evening, My Lady.”

“I simply made do, My Lord.”

“And you did so wonderfully.” James grinned. “Tell me, how did it feel to have half the men in here at your feet?”

“As usual, you are exaggerating.”

“I am sure I am not, though I admit I haven’t counted all the men here.”

“But you did count the men I danced with?”

James chuckled. “I did not. It’s not that they actually counted.”

“Yet, here you are, bringing them up.”

“I was merely noting how you seemed to enjoy yourself, My Lady.”

“And I gather it is now a crime for a lady to enjoy herself?” Diana gritted her teeth.

“Not at all.” James raised an eyebrow as his palm slid across her back. “But tell me, My Lady, was it the dancing or the attention that thrilled you most?”

Diana looked up with a frown that she managed to turn into a mock thoughtful expression.

“Hmm, difficult to say. Perhaps I should indulge myself more to reach a verdict.”

James’s eyes narrowed at the open challenge. All the tension and bitterness he felt all day faded away. He felt alive .

“No need, My Lady.” His voice was velvet and steel, all dark promises. “I’ll settle the matter for you.”

His fingers flexed just slightly on the small of her back—a movement no one would see, but one she felt everywhere .

“You look most beautiful in my arms.”

Diana’s eyes flicked up to his, wide and shocked. She couldn’t believe that he said something so scandalous in the middle of the whole ton.

It was delightful to see her so flustered. Still, his eyes sought out his father. Just for a moment, just to make sure everything was going smoothly.

“You can’t just say that and then look away,” Diana hissed.

James shifted his gaze back to her, his soul torn between his worry for his father and her. Looking into her green eyes, he struggled to make her his sole focus.

“It seems that telling the truth bothers you, My Lady.”

“It’s not so much about telling the truth—still debatable, by the way—but you telling it in front of everyone.”

James wanted to say something, something clever, something to tease her and make her blush. But he saw Lord Gretington move toward his father, and his back went rigid. That man was known for his cruel nature.

“I am worried about your well-being, My Lord,” Diana teased. “You passed up a perfect opportunity to torment me. You are not going soft on me now, are you?”

James heard her taunt, and his soul rejoiced at her banter, but he was after a different kind of prey, ready to pounce if his father showed any sign of distress. He would not allow Solomon to lose it and make a fool of himself, dragging his name down with him.

“James?” Diana’s voice cut through the tension. “Is everything all right?”

James heard the genuine concern in her voice, and it wrecked him. He decided to trust Richard to do his job and focused on her. Diana deserved as much.

He exhaled slowly, forcing his grip on her to relax slightly. His eyes flickered back to hers, searching, finding, lingering. She wasn’t merely filling the silence with idle chatter. She wasn’t teasing him for sport. She was asking out of real concern.

“It’s nothing, My Lady.”

“Lying does not become you, My Lord,” she huffed.

“A bold accusation, My Lady.”

“I am quite bold tonight, have you not noticed?” she quipped, tilting her chin up ever so slightly.

James exhaled again, this time smoothing his expression with a smile. A genuine one.

“I am sure you know my father’s… situation.”

“I do.” Diana nodded encouragingly.

“I am not totally certain that this is not… out of his depth. It’s been too long since he was last among the ton.”

“I of all people should know how cruel rumors can be.”

Of course, she would understand. Of course, she, of all people, would know what it meant to be the subject of whispered speculation, the quiet mockery behind polite smiles.

James’s grip on her loosened further. He nodded, and she smiled softly. Then, he pulled her closer with a dark look. He wanted to show her that he was completely focused on her now.

Oh, he was focused alright.

His hand, which was resting firmly on the small of her back, ached to wander, to explore. Like it did back in the gazebo. His eyes strayed to her full lips, and he longed to kiss them so badly, to swallow the little sounds she made when he pressed his body against hers.

“You seem a little tense, My Lord,” Diana teased breathlessly, betraying her desire.

“With you in my arms, how can I resist, My Lady?” He gave her the most seductive smile.

“We are merely dancing,” Diana whispered.

“No. You merely danced with all the other men tonight,” he murmured, his fingers drawing small circles on the base of her spine. “But none of them know how it is to truly hold you.”

“You are insufferable!” Diana inhaled.

“And yet I am the one suffering.”

“I didn’t peg you as melodramatic, Lord Crawford.”

“Oh, but I am suffering.” James’s dark eyes boldly roamed over her body.

“You are being awfully bold,” she scolded, but her voice lacked heat.

“Yet, you like me exactly like that, My Lady.”

“Do not presume, My Lord. I merely tolerate you.”

James pulled her closer, right at the bounds of propriety, her body almost flush against his tall, sturdy frame.

“Is that so, Diana?” he rumbled. “Is it tolerance when you gasp against my lips? When you tremble in my arms?”

Her nails dug into the fine fabric of his coat, and he chuckled. But she regained her composure quickly enough and schooled her features.

“I am just a diligent learner, My Lord.”

James looked at her with the intensity of a wolf circling his prey, his hunger barely contained. Diana clenched her jaw and coughed, the hand in his trembling.

“I need to keep up as your tutor, My Lady. Seeing how quick your progress is, we need to be more… thorough.”

Not one single word was spoken with an ounce of innocence.

“What is it that you are proposing?” Diana almost stuttered.

James groaned deep in his chest, and she felt the sound reverberate through her body.

“I have so much more to teach you, Diana.” His voice was low and daring. “Oh, so much more. But to do so, we need to be somewhere where we won’t be interrupted.”

Diana’s eyes widened.

Last time, James had nearly unraveled her by barely touching her skin in a half-hidden gazebo, with her chaperone right around the corner.

He was engrossed in thinking of the things he would do if he had her alone, in the dark, all to himself. How he would savor her, how he would ruin her, how he would teach her what real pleasure felt like. The kind that would make her body shiver, her back arch, and her lips part on a breathless moan.

His heart raced, and he struggled to keep himself in check in the middle of a respectable ball.

“Not interrupted?” Diana was intrigued, and that was all he needed.

“No intrusions, no stolen moments, no chaperones. You and me, Diana. Alone. At night.”

Diana looked around, sure that everyone heard the delectable, sinful things he was whispering to her. Then, she looked at him with a scorching look. James saw that his words had wrapped around her like a velvety promise.

He saw her inner conflict, how she avoided his gaze. He had felt her stiffen. It was absolutely wicked and inappropriate of him to suggest such a thing.

Come on, little wallflower .

He saw her bite her lower lip, her eyes glazing over as she most likely remembered what those hasty moments did to her.

James blinked slowly, smiling in satisfaction, dipping his chin to gaze upon his prey.

“Curiosity is a scholar’s greatest virtue, wouldn’t you agree, Lord Crawford?” she murmured, staring into his eyes.

Good girl.