"What wouldn't?" The flicker of emotion in her eyes told him she knew exactly what he meant.
"You and Paisley. Unlike myself, he's a man of honor. Aunt has already announced his betrothal. You'd have to kill the girl in order to gain his hand in marriage, and even then I'd wager against you."
"Do you always offer such pretty compliments?" Her lower lip trembled. Blast it, was the chit going to cry now?
"I'm merely telling you the truth. He is the honorable one."
"What does that make you?" Surprisingly her lip stopped trembling, her glassy eyes pierced him with such longing, he nearly forgot to breathe.
He swallowed, gaining time to gather himself. "It makes me the defiant one, I suppose."
She continued looking straight through him, making it deuced uncomfortable to do anything but stare back.
"Besides…" He leaned in and prayed Agatha wasn't watching. "Do you truly believe he could bring you pleasure after you've experienced it with me?"
The minx smiled tightly. "Do you believe yourself to be the expert in that certain area, your grace?"
"I don't believe. I know."
She snorted.
Did she doubt him?
Of all the hair-brained notions. Had she any idea what type of man she was frivolously playing with?
"Come on." He jerked her to her feet and made apologies to the rest of their company. "The lady wants to take some air… absolutely stuffy in here."
Heads nodded emphatically, and then she was out into the hall with the duke, utterly pinned by his predatory stare.
He stretched out his arm, giving her no choice in the matter but to take it and hope they would return soon.
Dread filled her with each step away from the box. Swallowing her fear, and if she were being honest, her excitement of being alone with the man, she continued on until he stopped in a darkened corner and pulled her in with him.
"Watch." He turned her toward the wall. Oh no, why hadn't she tried harder to fight him, or at least pulled away when he jerked her to her feet.
Trembling, she had only the option of hitting him in hopes to escape. Of course she had known him since he was a child, but obviously the man was different than the boy, and she always had a sort of fear of him.
"You've proven your point, now let me go." She moved to elbow him, but he slithered away.
"Point? What point?" He sounded quite confused.
"That you're not above terrifying innocent maidens into submission in order to gain what you want."
At that, he laughed, throwing his head back and then finally meeting her gaze, an actual smile of amusement on his face.
Katherine didn't mean to gasp, nor did she mean to lean forward to study the beautiful lines that made up this remarkable change in his demeanor, his deep set dimples, his wide smile.
Slowly, she lifted her hand and delicately touched his jaw.
Breath hissed between his teeth as he pushed her back against the wall she had just been just facing. "Am I terrifying now?"
"Dreadfully."
He needn't know that she was more astonished at his smile than truly terrified.
"Good, though that wasn't why I went to all the trouble to bring you here. Now turn around like a good girl."
What in the blazes was he doing? Katherine slowly turned, aware of his every breath as Benedict's lips grazed her ear, his gloved hands moved to either side of her head, one lifted, and a small light entered into their alcove, enough to gain her bearings.
"We're so close to the stage."
"Yes, funny thing that, it seems this box hasn't been used for near a decade."
"Why?"
"Well." He pulled the curtains back even wider but not enough for them to be viewed by anyone. "It was said that Count Von Luxemburg killed his wife in this very box. Nobody has taken it since. It is also quite close to the middle class, which is of course, frowned upon."
Katherine nodded. "I see."
He tensed behind her.
"So you've taken me here to frighten me? To explain that if I don't marry you, my fate will be the same as the countess, is that right?"
"My, my." His hot breath scalded her neck. "What a fun little imagination you have packed up in here." His hand dipped into her coiffure, brushing her skull and causing tremors. "Unfortunately, I brought you to this abandoned box so you wouldn't need to stare at Paisley all night, and also so you could enjoy the opera."
"I am enjoying it," she fired back, clearly irritated.
"Really?" His whisper mocked her.
"Yes."
"Then what, pray tell, is the name of the opera?"
Katherine swallowed. Blast, she had no idea. Not one clue, but surely all operas were similar? "I don't remember, but it is very romantic."
His body shook with laughter behind her. "It's a comedy, minx. Le Nozze de Figaro to be exact, and I suspect that if you were truly paying attention, you would be quite entranced by the entire performance."
She grinned, and focused back at the stage. "What's happening?"