Scandalous Regency Secrets Collection. Кэрол Мортимер

Coop knew he was surrounded by lovebirds. Thank God for Darby, the happily dedicated bachelor who had— Wait a moment. Hadn’t Darby been in on the plan to have his good friend compromise Dany into a betrothal?

      Why would he have done that? Why had there been such a twinkle in his eye as he’d convinced Coop it was a necessary strategy if they were to catch out the blackmailer?

      And then he remembered. They’d been at Oliver’s residence that first day—and how long ago it seemed now. Darby had said that he was an observer, and Dany had asked him what he was observing at the moment. That’s when he’d looked at Coop for a long moment in that way he had and said, “No, not today. I think I’ll wait. It might be safer.” And then he’d made an excuse to leave Coop and Dany alone.

      No, that’s impossible. The viscount Nailbourne in the role of matchmaker? He couldn’t have seen something neither of us saw. Still don’t see.

      Do we?

      Do I?

      Coop looked over at Dany, who was still tapping her foot, even sighing in pleasure, as the angels continued their hopping, skipping dance about the stage. There was so much joy encased in that small body, so much energy and love of life. Clearly, she wanted to stand up and dance.

      Suddenly he wanted to dance with her, right here, at this very moment, and the world be damned. He, Cooper Townsend, good friend, granted, but occasionally accused of being a bit of a sobersides, voluntarily making a cake of himself?

      Had Dany caused this change in him?

      Was there another answer?

      No, none that he could think of at any rate.

      It was as if she’d been fashioned especially for him, to shake him awake, make him realize all he’d been missing by being so rigid and commonsensible. Why should the duke be the only one to see life as something to be enjoyed to the hilt?

      But now what? This was a temporary betrothal; he’d promised Dany as much. Damn Darby for a troublemaking soothsayer; now what should he do?

      “Look at the third one from the left, dearies. Her plump bakery shop bouncing and jiggling like blancmange. She could do with a wide strip of linen tied around her bosoms, to my way of thinking. Many more years of flapping those things about and they’ll be at her knees.”

      Thunk. Welcome back to reality, old sport. Unexpectedly tumbling into love isn’t your only problem.

      How had he forgotten that his mother was seated in the row directly behind them, and what were the chances he’d be killed instantly and painlessly if he stood up and threw himself out of the box and down into the pit below?

      “Minerva, please, you can’t say things like that around...” he said, but then closed his mouth as he realized Dany was laughing. Her slim shoulders shaking, her gloved hands concealing a wide grin. Why, there were tears gathering in her eyes from attempting to hold back her amusement.

      “Ah, sterling. Just testing,” Minerva said in some satisfaction, sitting back on her chair once more, tossing one end of her just-short-of-garish purple pashmina stole around her neck as if pleased with a mission successfully accomplished. “She’ll do nicely, Cooper, just as Darby said. You may keep her. Although you may want to tell Ames to remove some of the starch from your collars.”

      His mother would never change, and he loved her. Dany was not his mother, but she clearly delighted in nonsense. Maybe that combination wasn’t as bad as it might have seemed a day earlier. Actually, the two of them, together, could be fun, if fun was the correct word. Still, he had to say something, admonish his mother in some way. “Mother—”

      Applause rose around them at that moment, and for an instant Coop wildly thought both Minerva and Dany would stand up and curtsy to the audience. But it was only Intermission, and an unforeseen rescue as he grabbed Dany’s hand and all but mowed down Rigby and Clarice as he dragged her past a canoodling duke and duchess in the shadows, and out of the box.

      “Where are we going?” she asked him as he raced her along ahead of any other patrons also intent on escaping their boxes for a bit of air and refreshment. “And can we get there before anyone can follow us?”

      Coop turned to grin at her, because once again she had peeked into his mind and seen his intentions. “Had enough of our jolly friends for a while, have you? The royal box is empty and curtained, and only five boxes down this way. It’s our best option.”

      Carefully looking in all directions to be certain they weren’t observed, he then pushed back the velvet curtains and entered the royal box. Because the front of the box was also draped shut, the move cast the two of them into near-total darkness.

      “Won’t we be arrested and clapped in chains if anyone discovers us in...”

      He didn’t allow her to finish. He was too intent on turning her about, pulling her into his arms and taking possession of her incredibly enticing full mouth.

      To silence her, of course.

      Bloody hell that was the reason!

      Perhaps she’d sneaked a few lessons from Rigby and Clarice’s performance earlier in the coach, because this time there was nothing wooden or missish about her response to his kiss. Instead, she rather melted against him, even as her arms slid up his chest and she wrapped her hands around his neck.

      His reaction to this unexpected capitulation was anything but that of a seasoned seducer.

      His throat seemed to swell, his heart rate doubled and damn if there wasn’t a small show of fireworks going on behind his eyelids.

      Other parts of his body reacted in a purely masculine way.

      She seemed to notice that, as well. And not shy away.

      Coop deepened the kiss, sliding the tip of his tongue inside her mouth, tasting her sweetness, marveling when she returned ardor for ardor. His thigh somehow found its way between hers and he moved his hand down to cup her firm round bottom, move himself against her.

      He broke the kiss but not their embrace, moving his mouth along the side of her throat, pressing kisses against the exposed skin above the neckline of her modest gown, lightly squeezing her breast as she threw back her head in the age-old signal of acceptance.

      Coop, with the last shreds of sanity he retained, knew he had to stop. This was not the time, and most definitely not the place.

      And who knew she’d be so willing? God, she was willing.

      It was that thought that truly stopped him.

      He had to know. Curse him for a fool, he had to know.

      He put his hands on her shoulders and put a careful six inches between them, attempting to make out her expression in the darkness.

      “Are you in any way serious, or is this just another adventure?”

      The sound of her palm hitting his cheek could not be considered one heard ’round the world, or even outside the royal box, but it was one totally deserved, and Coop knew it.

      “Oh, God, Dany, I’m...”

      “Not another word, my friend. You’ve more than dug this particular hole deep enough. Although I was going to stop you, anyway, for the sake of my own delicate sensibilities.”

      Coop and Dany turned as one, to see the dark outline of one Darby Travers standing just to the left of the railing overlooking the theater.

      “How did you...?”

      “Where else were you going to go?” Darby interrupted, stepping toward them to bow over Dany’s hand. “I knew you couldn’t remain in the duke’s box throughout the entire evening, not without running stark, staring mad into the streets, and this was so wonderfully convenient. Or am I wrong, and Minerva is behaving herself?”

      “She was behaving exactly like Minerva,” Coop said, putting a protective arm around Dany’s shoulders—why, he didn’t