Chapter 5
Five
What am I doing?
Deena paused outside the door to Austin’s guest chamber; her hand hovered over the polished wood, and her heart pounded far too loudly for something as simple as a conversation.
She did not understand the fluttering feeling and the heat that pooled low in her stomach at the thought of being alone with him again.
He was Dominic’s friend. A notorious rake. And now, somehow, her reluctant ally.
She knocked once firmly.
“Come in.” The sound of his deep voice made her shudder.
She entered, closing the door softly behind her.
The room was spacious and masculine. Dark woods, a fire crackling in the grate, and the faint scent of sandalwood and bergamot lingered in the air.
Austin stood by the window, hands clasped behind his back, coat discarded, and his waistcoat was unbuttoned just enough to reveal the white linen of his shirt stretched across his broad chest. Deena gulped.
He turned, and his hazel eyes met hers with an intensity that unsettled her.
“Deena,” he said her name softly in the gentlest of tones. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”
“I said I would.” She stayed near the door, arms folded. “You wanted to talk.”
“Yes.” He gestured to a chair by the fire. “Please, sit.”
She hesitated, then crossed the room, perching on the edge of the seat. He took the one opposite, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He was close enough that she could see the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw.
“You left rather abruptly last night,” he began, quietly. “After… everything.”
“My dress was torn by your admirer, if you can recall that.” She met his gaze defiantly.
“My admirer?” he echoed, a faint smile tugging at his mouth. “That’s one word for it.”
Silence stretched between them, thick with things unsaid. Deena looked at the clock on his wall and silently prayed for time to slow down.
He broke the silence first. “Tell me about the blackmailer. Anything. A name. A motive.”
“I don’t have a name.” She looked down at her hands. “I only have notes and letters. The first one came in Paris, and the latest arrived yesterday.”
“May I see them?”
Deena frowned at him. “Yes, but why would you want to look at them? What information can you hope to glean from--?”
“It is about me; I have a right to see them.”
“All right, but I only have one letter with me,” she lied and reached into her reticule for the most recent letter.
Deena did not enjoy beginning their conversation by telling falsehoods, but she withheld information because she was not ready to expose Penelope’s secrets to the Velvet Duke. He took the letter from her hand gently, opened it, and read it quickly.
“One week?” Austin’s brow furrowed in thought.
“Yes,” she said simply.
He leaned closer to her, and she held her breath. “I will be keeping this letter.” He left no room for argument.
Deena nodded slowly.
“Dee, what do they think I’m hiding?” Austin continued as he turned the paper over, trying to find more clues, but Deena had already studied it and found nothing more than what was written.
“I don’t know.” She lifted her eyes to his and found him reading and rereading the note. “Truly. I only know they will ruin someone I care about if I do not comply.”
“Who is this someone?” His eyes turned sharply to hers.
Deena shook her head, focusing her attention on the flames in front of them and refusing to answer.
“Is it a lover?”
Her head snapped towards him. “No. I told you it’s a friend.”
He exhaled slowly. “And you won’t tell me who?”
“I cannot.”
Austin sat back, frustration flickering across his features, and Deena was not sure why she felt guilty for not trusting him.
“I’m getting no answers from you. So, either you’re not being honest, or you don’t trust me,” he said as if he could read her mind.
“I’m being as honest as I can, Austin. It is not my secret to tell.”
She had to protect her friend more than she protected herself. There was no question about it.
He gave a short, humorless laugh. “If there’s one thing I pride myself on, it’s honesty. And—” His mouth curved into a self-mocking smile. “—the fact that women rather like me. Usually that’s enough to loosen tongues.”
Deena felt heat rise in her cheeks. “I’m not most women.”
“No,” he murmured, eyes darkening. “You’re not.”
He stood abruptly, crossing to the mantel. With a restless motion, he loosened his cravat, tugging the knot free until the linen fell open at his throat. The glimpse of tanned skin and the strong column of his neck made her throat suddenly dry.
He turned back to her, gaze intense. “What must I do, Dee? What must I say to get the truth from you?”
The words hung between them, low and rough, laced with something akin to frustration.
She swallowed. “Austin…”
He stepped closer, stopping just short of her chair. “We can still make our arrangement work.”
She looked up at him. “How? I am sure that we both have secrets we are not allowed to share.”
“What if I give you pieces of mine?” His voice dropped lower so that he whispered. “Controlled bits of information. Scandalous enough to satisfy your blackmailer. It will buy you some time.”
“I don’t have time…”
“One week, you said?”
She nodded.
“Then we have seven days.” He crouched in front of her, bringing their faces level. “I’ll feed you stories, all true ones, but completely harmless. Things the ton already whispers. In return, you keep helping me find a wife. The right one.”
His nearness was overwhelming. The warmth from his body, the faint scent of his skin, and the way his shirt pulled tight across his shoulders as he balanced on his heels all sent Deena’s thoughts careening wildly.
“And our original deal stands,” he continued softly. “I give you scandals. You shield me from the marriage-minded horde.”
Deena’s pulse raced. “And the blackmail?”
“We handle it together.” His hand rested on the arm of her chair, inches from hers. “But there’s a condition.”
“What?”
“Honesty.” His eyes locked on hers. “We must be honest about everything. No lies. No evasions. And I believe that Dominic should know about this.”
She stared at him. “I told you I don’t want to involve my brother!”
“I want to keep you safe,” he said simply. “If that means involving Dominic… then we have to keep him in the loop.”
“Dominic has finally found his happiness, and I’ll be damned before I do anything that might snatch it away from him.” There was a sweet tension between them.
“You have your brother’s stubbornness,” Austin muttered.
His thumb idly traced the edge of her chair as he spoke.
The small motion drew Deena’s gaze despite herself.
In an instant, memory flooded her of the warmth of his palm at the small of her back during their waltz, the firm, guiding pressure of his fingers against hers, and the way his hand had spanned her waist with effortless strength.
Heat unfurled low in her belly at the vivid recollection. She pressed her thighs together.
Deena tore her eyes away as her cheeks warmed.
No. She would not allow Austin, the Velvet Duke, to unsettle her with a mere gesture. She shook the thought off as briskly as if one might dismiss a persistent fly. Deena straightened her spine and fixed her attention firmly on his face instead of his hands to find him smirking.
“What are you smirking at?”
“I’m starting to doubt that you’d be able to help me find a wife.”
Deena frowned. “And why is that?”
“Because, Deena,” he murmured, a slow, devastating smile curving his mouth, “every time you look at me like that, pink-cheeked and breathless, I find myself far less interested in any other woman in the room.”
Deena swallowed, forcing her voice steady. His nearness made her unable to think straight. “I was not looking at you like anything.”
“Weren’t you?” His gaze dropped to her hands, then lower to her thighs, before returning to her eyes. “Your body tells a different story.”
“I—I’m not sure what you want me to say!” she blurted.
“Just say yes to our deal.”
She drew a shaky breath. “Yes.”
His smile was slow and devastating. “Good girl.”
He rose, offering his hand to help her stand. She took it, her fingers slid against his palm, and the contact lingered. He was warm, firm, and her skin tingled under his touch. She wasn’t sure if it made her uncomfortable or desire more.
And what is more?
Neither of them let go immediately.
“You should go,” he said at last. “Before I forget, we’re only talking.”
Her heart stuttered. “We are only talking.”
“Are we?” He lifted her hand, brushing his lips to her knuckles as he placed a soft kiss on them. “Because it doesn’t feel like it.”
Deena pulled free, stepping back. “Austin…”
“Go,” he repeated in a gentler tone.
She moved to the door, not understanding or trusting her own body.
“And Dee?”
She glanced back.
His eyes burned through hers. “In seven days, we will find your blackmailer. Trust me.”
Deena stood in front of the mirror in her sunlit bedchamber, twisting to inspect the fit of her pale green dress.
The fabric hugged her curves just enough to feel elegant without being immodest, and it was perfect for whatever her grandmother had planned.
Her maid, Elise, fussed with the ribbons at her back.
“Almost ready,” Elise murmured.
Deena nodded absently; her mind had been wandering often to Austin. She pictured him waiting at breakfast, his sleeves rolled to his elbows displaying his strong hands.
What would those hands feel like unpicking her gown’s buttons? Sliding bare over her skin, strong fingers rasping against the soft skin of her waist, pulling her flush against the hard planes of his chest until she could feel every inch of him pressing insistently—
A sharp knock at the door shattered the illicit fantasy and heat flooded her cheeks.
“Enter,” she called steadier than she felt.
The door flew open, and her nephew Percy, hurtled like a cannonball, slamming into her legs. “Aunt Dee! You are here!”