Waking Up With the Duke by Lorraine Heath Read Free Book Online

she rasped. “I don’t wish to play these games.”
    “It’s not a game to me, Jayne. I take Walfort’s request seriously.”
    “You shouldn’t. It’s ludicrous. Disgusting. Abhorrent.”
    “He wants you to be happy.”
    “Then he shouldn’t have been friends with you.” She shot to her feet, knowing her words were unfair, but she didn’t like his nearness, his sultry voice, his titillating touch. His coat promptly dropped to the ground, and she immediately missed the warmth. But she refused to snatch it back up. Instead, she desperately scanned the shadows. “How will we know when the boar is gone?”
    “Considering the time, I suspect by now he’s returned to his wife. She never allows him to stay out past midnight. Not even at the clubs.”
    She swung around. He was sitting negligently on the bench, his long legs outstretched, his tanned breeches hugging his firm thighs. Why did she have to notice every bit of his perfection? “Pardon?”
    “I suspect Lord Sheffield has retired to his bedchamber and his wife by now.”
    “Lord Sheffield? You said there was a boar you were seeking to escape.”
    “Yes. Quite. Lord Sheffield is a bore. The man’s conversations are far less interesting than watching grass grow.”
    “I thought . . . you led me . . .” She narrowed her eyes. “I thought you meant a creature. A wild hog.”
    “I daresay that would be far more interesting than Lord Sheffield.”
    Oh, the man! She wanted to stomp her feet, shake him, make him behave. But she did nothing except express her displeasure with words. “I think you knew what I thought and were content to let me think it so you could work your wiles upon me.”
    “You are a suspicious wench, Jayne.”
    “It is Lady Walfort to you. Good night, Your Grace.”
    With that, she turned on her heel and marched back to the house. The man was insufferable.
    And yet for the span of a heartbeat there, as she gazed into his eyes, felt the touch of his fingers, she’d yearned . . . for exactly what, she did not wish to acknowledge. But it had been a good long while since she’d yearned for anything that even remotely resembled a dream.
    A insley sat for the longest time on the bench, allowing the chilled air to seep into his bones, to cool his ardor. It had risen so easily with her nearness, with her fragrance teasing him, with images of kissing her taunting him. She’d been spot on regarding his motives. He’d known what she thought about the boar and had done nothing to correct her assumptions. He’d suspected she’d take her leave otherwise, and he’d been determined to have a few moments alone with her.
    He and Walfort had been at the window in the billiards room, enjoying a bit of brandy, waiting their turn at the table, when they spotted Jayne on the garden path.
    “You should take advantage of this opportunity to have her alone,” Walfort said quietly, his gaze focused on the darkness. “Not many will come your way with all these guests about.”
    “I’m not going to seduce your wife, Walfort.”
    “Fine. Then I shall secure another.” He twisted around slightly. “Braverton, perhaps.”
    Ainsley’s gut tightened at the mention of a man whose title opened doors for him that his behavior would not. “He’s odious.”
    “He has sired four offspring on his wife and three on his mistress, so he can certainly deliver the goods.”
    “It’s no secret that he places his own pleasures first.”
    “That you don’t is certainly a benefit Jayne would have enjoyed, but the ultimate goal here is to get her with child.”
    Ainsley’s teeth were on edge as he watched Walfort’s gaze sweep over the gentlemen drinking his liquor, smoking his cheroots, discussing the hunt, and waiting their turn to smack some balls around.
    “Langford, perhaps.”
    “I’ve had the misfortune of seeing him without a shirt. Do you truly want to burden your child with the appearance that one of his ancestors may have mated with an