Eyes darkening, he leaned forward. "I didn't know you could ruin a devil."
"And I didn't know you could redeem one, yet here we are."
"Yes." His hands moved to her shoulders and then her neck. "Here we are."
His lips were just a breath away from hers, but the carriage jolted them out of their moment, putting a stop to whatever spell had descended upon the carriage.
"I'll just be reading then," Katherine said.
"…must catch up on my sleep, you understand," he answered at the same time and quickly closed his eyes.
Catch up on his sleep? More like experience firsthand torture. Confound it! Benedict had again almost kissed the girl!
It wasn't necessarily the kiss that upset him.
No, it was the way his body responded to her laugh, her every word, as if she wasn't just conversing with him but making love to him.
Which was sheer madness! Speaking was not making love.
And yet, with Katherine it was.
Every word formed with her delicate lips, every sigh that escaped without her notice, every bat of her lashes.
Mad. He was going absolutely mad.
But kissing her? It would make things exponentially worse, for he wouldn't stop at one kiss. He would not insult his own intelligence by justifying such an action.
With Katherine, a kiss had never been a kiss, but sheer ecstasy like he had never known. Her smell, her taste, everything about her unique and spiced.
Better than whiskey. Blast it, better than sex.
Madness. When a man compared kissing to sex and kissing won out, he needed to embark on a weeklong stint of debauchery.
Yet, all he could think about was her kiss, her lips, and the simple idea that in a few short weeks she would say yes, and he could spend his days and his nights finding out what was so intriguing about the saucy minx sitting in that carriage.
Yet, a part, a small part, warned him that once he began that discovery, he would never want to stop.
CHAPTER TWELVE
A Snowball For a Duke
Katherine was jolted awake by Benedict's hand.
"Well? Are you going to wake up, or do I need to carry you?"
Ah, just what she needed — a reminder of why he was called the Devil Duke, why he was disagreeable, and why she was upset she wasn't with his cousin. Katherine had needed that reminder, for her heart had felt lost on the journey, and she wasn't sure what was happening to her. Something larger than friendship was blossoming between them.
And she wasn't sure her heart could take the devastation of what a man like Benedict would bring. Surely she could marry him and keep herself indifferent if he was disagreeable. But what if she began to like him, to befriend him, to love him?
He would destroy her.
It would start slow. Most likely Benedict would show her firsthand exactly why women whispered about his sexual encounters. But after a few weeks or even a few months, he would get bored. His eyes would wander in the general direction of the courtesans, and he would be lost forever.
His laugh, gone.
His smile, nonexistent.
And she would be heartbroken.
Which was why, when he woke her up with a smile on his face, she nudged him out of the way and stepped out of the carriage on her own.
What she didn't know was that the ground was far closer than she realized, and she nearly lost her footing.
Thankfully, Benedict was close behind her and caught her arm, but not before it hit him square in the face with a resounding thud.
The footmen gasped.
But Katherine laughed.
Benedict cursed. "And there she is. I was wondering when your clumsy self was to make another appearance."
She curtsied, because really there was nothing else to do in such circumstances, and wonder of all wonders the Devil Duke laughed heartily, causing the footmen to gasp for an entirely different reason.
Naturally his laugh was followed by an excessive amount of throat clearing and chest thumping. After all, the devil was to never laugh in public. Benedict had always tried to keep his manners indifferent when in the presence of the ton, far be it from them to discover he actually had a heart. The mamas would be relentless in their pursuit if they thought him anything but disagreeable.
Katherine wasn't sure what possessed her to indulge the man in a bit of playfulness. Maybe it was the way he cloaked his merriment with a devil-may-care attitude, or the line of his shoulders when he brought them back and tried to escort her into the large house.
Perhaps, she thought as she looped her arms within his, childhood never truly leaves you. Maybe your physical body grows into what society deems acceptable, but those dreams, the itches you get to do something adventurous and dangerous never die. If anything, they are more intense in their drive, for the minute you decide to give in to the immaturity that plagued you when you were small, you are able to be free, to laugh, and to fly.