Henry’s arms flexed around me. “What sort of kiss?” he asked. “The quick kind on the cheek?”
I shook my head, resigned to the whole truth. “More like the long kind on the mouth.”
“I’ll kill him.” Henry’s voice was flat and eerily void of emotion.
Fear coursed through me, and I pulled away as far as his arms would allow. “No you won’t! I’ve finally found two other leath’dhia in the whole world, and I won’t have you sending one to an early grave in a jealous rage.”
“What do you expect me to do?” His tone brimmed with exasperated anger. “Pretend it never happened? I won’t be able to look at Lord Stroud again without imagining his mouth all over yours.” Henry groaned, and I felt him stiffen behind me. “No. Apparently I don’t even have to see the man to envision what happened.”
My cheeks grew hot, though I wasn’t sure if embarrassment or anger played the greater part. “What about Justine Rose? From your own confession, you did a mite more than kissing.”
Henry snorted his indignation. “As if that’s a fair comparison. I hadn’t even met you yet.”
“Well, what about Amelia? I hate how everyone thinks you two are betrothed. But you don’t hear me threatening to kill her.” Not that the thought hadn’t crossed my mind tonight.
“The comparison is hardly applicable as I’ve never kissed Amelia, nor shown any affection beyond friendship. You’ll have to do better than that to save Julian’s life.”
I drew in a breath, prepared to berate Henry into seeing reason when I suddenly realized just how little reason had played into his jealous outburst. Which meant Julian’s life would have to be saved by different tactics tonight.
Shifting my weight, I subtly gathered a large handful of silk skirts. Then in one deft movement, I turned to face Henry, planting one knee on either side of the cushion and straddling his lap.
His initial astonishment eased to a grin, and I leaned closer until our lips almost touched. “I suggest a duel.”
Henry didn’t even blink. “Gladly. I shall have my second visit Lord Stroud in the morning.”
I tightened my knees around his thighs. “You misunderstand, Lord Fitzalan. I have just challenged you to a duel. Do you accept?”
He studied me for a moment. “I’ve never faced a woman before.” Firelight played against his skin, illuminated the mix of curiosity and amusement in his eyes. “Which weapons do you propose?”
“Hmmm. What shall it be? Swords or pistols at twenty paces?” My body thrummed with excitement, and I had to exert every bit of self-control not to press myself against him.
“I’ve always preferred swords à l’outrance,” he said, his voice noticeably deeper.
“To first blood?”
“To the uttermost.” His warm breath brushed my lips. “Does that suit you, my lady?”
Henry moved his head forward to claim my mouth, but I pulled back just out of reach. “Oh, no,” I laughed. “I’ll be using an even more deadly weapon.” I tightened my knees once more as Brigid’s fire flared to life inside me.
“And what would that be? I’ve heard the only suitable weapon for women is either poison, or their...” His voice trailed off and he swallowed hard.
I leaned closer to whisper in his ear. “Shall I show you?”
His hands gripped my back as a low growl sounded from deep inside his throat. “Yes, please...”
Lowering my lashes, I gave him a seductive grin. “Then let the duel begin.”
He offered no resistance as, one-by-one, I slipped the silver buttons through the buttonholes of his waistcoat, and the dark silk parted to reveal the white linen shirt underneath. The cravat came apart even quicker, and my pulse skittered wildly when his shirt fell open, exposing him to mid-sternum. He watched me through heavy lids, his body seemingly calm except for the soft rasp of air through his nose.
My fingers turned anxious and every pounding heartbeat nearly undid me as I coaxed the front shirttail from his breeches. Never before had I behaved so wickedly, but having extended the challenge, I would dance with the devil before I backed down. His heated stare poured into me, and another growl emerged from his throat when I slid my hands beneath the snowy material. Emboldened by his reaction, I skimmed along his ribbed abdomen, teasing the skin until he quivered under my touch.
A moan gathered in my throat from the exquisite feel of him, all warm velvety hardness just like I had imagined so many times before. At the last second, I bit my lip to keep silent rather then expose my weakened position and just how much I wanted to tumble into him. From his abdomen, I lightly grazed his ribs, power suffusing my skin when I reached his chest and pressed my palms into the thick muscles. Henry purred his approval, the deep vibration passing into me.
“First strike, my lord,” I murmured.