...and here’s a taster to whet your appetite

SIMON wasn’t sure at what moment he knew he was going to kiss her. It was probably something he never knew, just something he felt. Up until that very last minute he’d been able to convince himself that he was only pulling her behind the hedge to scold her, upbraid her for careless behaviour that would only land both of them in serious trouble. But then something had happened — or maybe it had been happening all along, and he’d just been trying too hard not to notice it. Her eyes changed; they almost glowed. And she opened her mouth — just the tiniest bit, barely enough for a breath, but it was enough that he couldn’t take his eyes off her. His hand snaked up her arm, over the pale satin fabric of her glove, across bare skin, and then finally past the wispy silk of her sleeve. It stole around to her back, pulling her closer, squeezing out the distance between them. He wanted her closer. He wanted her around him, atop him, beneath him. He wanted her so much it terrified him. He moulded her to him, his arms wrapping around her like a vice. He could feel the length of her now, every last inch. She was considerably shorter than he was, so her breasts flattened against the bottom of his ribs, and his thigh — he shuddered with desire. His thigh wedged between her legs, his firm muscles feeling the heat that was pouring from her skin. Simon groaned, a primitive sound that mixed need with frustration. He wasn’t going to be able to have her this night — he wasn’t able to have her ever, and he needed to make this touch last him a lifetime. The silk of her dress was soft and flimsy beneath his fingers, and as his hands roved along her back, he could feel every elegant line of her. And then somehow — to his dying day he would never know how — he stepped away from her. Just an inch, but it was enough for the cool night air to slide between their bodies. ‘No!’ she cried out, and he wondered if she had any idea the invitation she made with that simple word. His hands cupped her cheeks, holding her steady so that he might drink in the sight of her.

It was too dark to see the exact colours that made her unforgettable face, but Simon knew that her lips were soft and pink, with just a tinge of peach at the corners. He knew that her eyes were made up of dozens of shades of brown, with that one enchanting circle of green constantly daring him to take a closer look, to see if it was really there or just a figment of his imagination. But the rest — how she would feel, how she would taste — he could only imagine. And Lord, how he’d been imagining it.

n An extrAct from the Duke And I, by Julia Quinn. Published by Piatkus, an imprint of Little, Brown Book Group.