One Night with Prince Charming (Aristocratic Grooms #2)(16)
Author: Anna DePalo

“Is there much difference?” he asked. “And anyway, who knows what dastardly deeds and reprobate behavior Mr. Darcy engaged in before you met him?”

“Better the devil you don’t know,” she responded, turning a well-known saying on its head.

He placed his hand over his heart. “And yet one could say we encountered each other under blind circumstances not so different from your first meeting with Mr. Darcy. Surely, if you can find it in your heart to take him…?”

“I am not taking you in like…a-a stray,” she responded reprovingly.

“Much to my regret,” he murmured.

Giving him a lingering cautionary look, she turned her back and, using the wall for support in imitation of his earlier action, signed the contract.

She turned back to him and handed him a copy of the contract.

“Splendid,” he said with a grin. “I’d kiss you to seal the deal, but I’ll venture to guess you wouldn’t find it appropriate under the circumstances.”

“Certainly not!”

“A handshake then?”

Pia eyed him, and he returned her regard with a bland look of his own.

Slowly, she extended her hand, and he grasped it in his.

He let himself feel the vibrant current coursing between them. It was the same as when they’d met three years ago. It was the same as it always was.

Her hand was small and fine-boned. The fingers, he’d noticed, tapered to well-manicured nails that nevertheless showed not a hint of polish—so like her, delicate but practical.

When she tried to pull away, he tightened his hold, drawing out the contact for reasons he didn’t bother to examine.

She looked up at him questioningly, and he read the turbulent sexual awareness in her amber eyes.

In a courtly gesture, he bent and gave her a very proper kiss on the hand.

He heard Pia suck in a breath, and as he straightened, he released her hand.

She swallowed. “Why did you do that?”

“I’m a duke,” he said, the excuse falling easily from his lips. “It’s a done thing.”

In fact, Hawk admitted to himself, the context wasn’t fitting even if the gesture might have been. He wasn’t greeting a woman—one of higher social status—who’d offered him her hand. But he brushed aside those niceties, not least because it had been tempting to touch her.

“Of course,” Pia acknowledged lightly, though a shadow crossed her face. “I know all about your world, even if I’m not part of it.”

“You’ve agreed to be part of it now,” he countered. “Attend the theater with me tomorrow night.”

“Wh-what?” she asked, looking startled. “Why?”

He smiled. “It’s Lucy’s off-Broadway show. Seeing my sister on the stage, in her element, might give you useful insight into her personality.”

Pia relaxed her shoulders.

He could tell she’d been wondering whether he was reneging on his promise even before the ink had dried on their contract. Was he trying to entice her back into his bed?

Yes—no. No. He corrected the response that had jumped unbidden into his head. Fortunately, he hadn’t spoken aloud.

Nevertheless, Pia seemed ready to argue. “I don’t think a show would be—”

“—the ticket?” he finished. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got two seats in the front orchestra.” He winked. “I worked the family connection.”

“You know what I mean!”

“Hardly. And that seems to be a recurring problem of mine.”

Pia looked as if she wanted to continue to protest.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night. I’ll come by at seven.” He glanced down at the cat. “I hope Mr. Darcy won’t mind spending the evening at home alone.”

“Why?” she jabbed, but lightly. “Is he an uncomfortable reminder that the role left to you might be that of villain?”

He felt the side of his mouth tease upward. “How did you guess?”

Pia raised her eyebrows, but the look she gave him was open and unguarded.

“I’m not too concerned.”

“Oh?”

He glanced down at Mr. Darcy again. “I feel confident that only one of us can waltz.”

“Oh.”

Pia looked startled and then, for a moment, dreamy—as if the idea of a waltz had called to the romantic in her.

Mr. Darcy just continued to stare at them unblinkingly, and Hawk realized that now was as good a time as any for him to leave, before he gave in to too much temptation.

He let the side of his mouth quirk up again. “Since I appear to have exhausted my options for acceptable salutations and social niceties, I’m afraid my goodbye will have to be rather dull.”

“How reassuring,” Pia answered, recovering.

He touched his finger to the tip of her pert nose in humorous salute of her impertinence.

And then, unable to stop himself, he let his finger wander down and smooth over her pink and inviting lips.

They both quieted.

“Tomorrow night,” he repeated.

He turned away before he was tempted to touch her lips with his, and then let himself out the way he’d come in.

As he pulled shut the apartment door behind him, Hawk refused to let himself think about why he found it hard to leave Pia.

It was a vexing situation that could only mean no good for his best of intentions.

Five

Pia found herself staring at her apartment door after Hawk had left. Flooded with conflicting emotions, she hugged herself and sat down on her couch.

She touched her fingers to her lips, in imitation of Hawk’s action moments ago. She could swear he’d wanted to kiss her. The last time he’d kissed her had been on the night that they’d first met.…

Pia turned away and picked up the remote to her MP3 player because music relaxed her. Within a few moments, the dulcet tones of an orchestral ensemble drifted through the apartment from her small speakers.

“W-would you like a drink?” she asked.

James laughed close behind her. “What a question to ask, considering we’ve just been to a bar.”

In truth, she felt light-headed herself. It must have been that last cocktail she’d had at the bar while trying to converse with the real estate office manager.

“Pia,” James said quietly, laying his hands on her shoulders.

She froze at the contact, her ni**les tightening.

“Relax,” he murmured close to her ear.

Oh.

He removed his hands…but moments later, she felt his fingertips trail up her arms as he nuzzled the hair near her ear.