Chapter 3

" So, you see that is why it is necessary to have the reception at the Royal Greenhouse proceeding the ceremony at Holy Trinity," Victor drolled on, "It is so that we may walk our wedding procession through the street, announcing our good fortune! As I stated earlier, our family, me in particular, has been known for our drive to-"

"Yes, that is all very interesting," Xander stated, rising to his feet, "but I must excuse myself for a moment."

After being bombarded with inappropriate questions regarding his lineage and state of wealth, Xander had then been forced to listen to forty-five minutes of the pompous man's boorish voice as he listed off an equal number of self-accomplishments and demands. Between wedding details and details of either Victor's, his wife's, or his daughters' accomplishments, Xander's gaze had wandered to Eleanor.

She had not even spared a glance toward him since he had pulled his hand away from hers, and had said absolutely nothing; despite the many moments her mother and sister had interjected to add some boring detail about their lives. Somewhere between struggling to pay attention to the plans of his future wedding and wondering what in the bloody hell his future wife was thinking, Xander had started devising a plan.

"I beg your pardon?" Victor asked, looking annoyed at the interruption. "This is a very important discussion, Your Grace. With a man of your stature, it is highly vital that we–"

"I am sure you are correct, but nature waits for no man's politeness," Xander stated bluntly.

A stifled laugh escaped from Eleanor's lips as Victor's face turned red with rage and began to nod his head so violently that his double chin began to jiggle.

"Very well," he said gruffly, "I will have a servant show you-"

"No need," Xander shot back, already walking through the doorway, "I will find it myself."

The moment he was outside and saw no one was going to follow him, Xander made his way stealthily down the hall, opening each door delicately until he found the room he was looking for: Victor's study. Stealing inside, he shut the door silently and quickly went to work looking for the evidence the man had on him.

Victor had presented the proof the night of the ball, so Xander knew they were as authentic as the position he had been blackmailed into. However, if he could find the proof and set it aflame, he could be free of this forced marriage and from London society altogether.

"Now where the hell is it?"

Xander looked through cabinets and drawers, opened every portfolio, every keepsake box, and every hollowed-out book he could find, but all he found were rolls of bank notes, old jewelry, and a few debt notes that looked annoying but not blackmail-worthy. Disgusted with his lack of results, Xander grabbed a cigar from one of the many expensive boxes he had found, lit it, and flopped forcefully into the chair behind Victor's desk. He had underestimated his opponent, and it annoyed him greatly.

He took a puff from the cigar, letting the smoke linger for a moment in his mouth, and then exhaled slowly. He had to stay calm and find the proof. If it was not here, that only meant it had to be somewhere else in the house. Xander did a quick mental estimation of how many rooms the large manor had and came up with at least twelve if the downstairs layout was any indication. Just as he was wondering if he had enough time to steal upstairs and try to find the right one, Xander heard the door open.

Thinking it was Victor, Xander rose to his feet, feeling the muscles of his aching body tense for the incoming argument about to come his way. He clenched his fists and grit his teeth, ready to drop the act of politeness and downright threaten the man with violence, and then saw Eleanor's brown hair appear around the slightly opened door. Xander felt the tension in his body dissipate as the young woman stepped into his view, and then quietly closed the door behind her.

Despite the startling difference in appearance Eleanor had with the rest of her family members, Xander had still been expecting her to behave like them. And yet, she had not spoken a word; had not shown an inkling of excitement like the others. Finally, he could take her silence no longer.

"What are we to do about this?" He asked her bluntly, settling back down into the chair.

At this, Eleanor's plump lips pulled into a smirk, and she too took a seat.

"About this marriage or about you being in my father's study, smoking his cigars?" She asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm. It surprised Xander greatly.

"I beg your pardon?"

"What part did you not comprehend, Your Grace?" She asked placatingly, her brows drawing down in mock concern, "Are you asking what we are going to do about this obviously forced marriage or are you asking what we are going to do about your dreadfully poor manners?"

Victor's temper spiked as his grey eyes darkened, and he took another drag from his cigar. It was not often he was talked to this way. In fact, he had never been spoken to so brazenly. He took his time studying Eleanor's eyes and saw a fury that very well may have matched his own.

Very well, he thought devilishly, readying himself to argue, let us play this game.

"My poor manners?" He asked, his tone void of emotion.

"Yes, your poor manners," Eleanor confirmed quickly, "It is not just you that wants this meeting over with. I too would rather be doing absolutely anything else, and the longer you dally here, the further we are from that accomplishment!"

Xander could not help the sudden grin that broke out across his face as Eleanor lectured him.

"And what of your manners?" He asked, stopping her before she could berate him further. "Is that how you choose to speak to your future husband? Careful, my lady. Such talk could set you up for quite the punishment."

Xander felt a stir in his groin as Eleanor's eyes suddenly widened and her soft peach cheeks turned a crimson red. She lifted her nose at him as her lips nearly curled into a sneer, and he nearly chuckled.

"Perhaps I was mistaken," Eleanor hissed, rising to her feet. "You seem as horrid as my father."

She put her hands on the desk and leaned until their faces were only a forearm's length apart, and as she did so, a brown curl escaped its pin, falling over her left eye in a devilishly seductive way. Upon seeing it, Xander suddenly felt his breath hitch, and the urge to reach out and touch the silky tendril was almost overwhelming. It was only the pure rage in her honey eyes that stopped him from doing so.

"Know this, husband-to-be," she whispered, her tone as heated as her eyes, "I will take punishment from no man. No matter what his station over me may be. I will accept your hand if I must, but I will hurl myself from a cliff before I allow you to think I am a meek, mewling creature."

Afraid of what she might say next, Eleanor pushed herself away from the desk and walked quickly to the study door. Her entire body was vibrating with fury and if she did not leave soon, she was going to burst into tears by the pure frustration of it all.

Her fingertips were just about to touch the brass knob when suddenly, she felt a warm grip around her waist, and she was whirled around in a flurry of motion. She could not help the gasp that escaped her throat as Xander's grey eyes locked in her eyes the same way his hands locked on her wrists. Desire spiked through her but that did not stop her from throwing him a hateful gaze and pushing against his weighted grip- no matter how little use it was.

"Calm yourself, Honey," Xander warned, his voice low, and thick with caution as his eyes burned into hers. "And I will give you one chance to apologize for such a horrid accusation. I am nothing like your father."

Defiance reared up strong in Eleanor and she raised her chin higher. Pinned to the door or not, she was not about to allow him to frighten her. Despite the strange effect it was having on her, she kept her eyes on his and kept her gaze level and unflustered.

"Prove it is not true," she countered coyly, flexing her fingers above his grip on her palms- another small act of defiance. "If you want your apology so badly."

"You prove you are not like him first," Xander answered challengingly, suspicion suddenly rising in his eyes. "You are his daughter after all, and like most ladies, I assume you want a rich husband. How do I know you were not complicit in your father's schemes?"

She had no idea Xander had loosened his grip on her hands until one of them suddenly shot out, striking the man sharply across the face. Panic rose in her as she realized what she had just done, but something had snapped in her, and she raised her hand to strike him again. This time though Xander expected it, and caught her wrist easily before pinning it to the wall again.

"Do not do that again," He warned her, the calmness in his voice scaring her more than the earlier anger. "I am finding this amusing but I do have my limits."

Upon saying this, Xander released her wrists and took a step backward, allowing her to decide what to do next. Eleanor thought of going to her parents, of telling them what had just happened, but what good would that do? She would only be berated and punished; most likely even locked in her room until her wedding day. Instead, she chose to take a calming breath and gather herself.

"I am simply confused," she said at last, finally bringing her eyes back to his. The now familiar flutter in her stomach returned, annoying her.

"About what?" He asked calmly. If he was still furious about the slap, he was not showing it.

"I am aware of your reputation, Your Grace," she stated, trying to choose her words as respectfully as possible, "It is no secret that you relish your freedom and do not seek marriage."

Xander nodded at this, and as he did so, Eleanor was sure she saw the briefest flash of an ugly purple bruise below the collar of his buttoned shirt.

"It is true," he agreed, walking back to his cigar. "But it was always unavoidable. As the heir to my title, I knew it would happen eventually."

"So why me, then?" Eleanor asked, following him back to the desk. "There are plenty of other ladies to choose from . Many much better mannered and better titled than me, and who actually want you."

The sudden bark of laughter that came from Xander as she said this last bit surprised her, making her pause.

"Oh, so you do not want me?" He asked, amusement written on his handsome face. "Truly?"

She gave him an exhausted look. The man obviously enjoyed bantering and she was growing weary of keeping track of how many directions the emotions of the conversation could go.

"Do not act like you want me, either," she sighed. They were getting nowhere, and her parents were no doubt on the verge of coming to look for them by now.

"What if I did?" Xander asked, leaning forward in his chair, grinning from ear to ear. "What if I did want you?"

The question suddenly had a shot of embarrassing joy going through her, but she knew better.

"You play too much, Your Grace," Eleanor huffed, turning away from him. As she did so she heard the clatter of objects being knocked over and then felt Xander's hand once more close around her wrist.

She turned back to ask him to let go, but she was met with the most intriguing look. He was smiling, obviously amused, but there was also an earnest curiosity. Could he possibly be enjoying this conversation? Still holding onto her wrist, Xander put the cigar down and walked around the desk until he was standing just a finger's length away from her.

"You do not know me, Your Grace," Eleanor managed to whisper, feeling suddenly caught by his heated gaze.

"And you do not know me," Xander replied, his tone matching hers, "And yet, we find ourselves in this situation."

Strange but delicious shivers overtook Eleanor's body as Xander's hand slowly came up to her face. As the pad of his thumb gently caressed the bottom of her lip, she felt her heart begin to pound rapidly and felt the room around her spin. His touch lingered there only a moment before it made its way down her chin, and as his thumb swept over the delicate flesh of its underside, the rest of his hand formed a circle around her throat.

Despite knowing she should be frightened, Eleanor felt her excitement grow as his fingers slowly caressed and gently tightened around her neck. She knew she should speak. To tell him to move away, but the words would not form.

She looked at him imploringly, as if he could somehow help. But as he moved closer, and his chiseled lips grazed gently over hers, Eleanor felt a hot, tightening sensation in her lower belly, and she realized it was he she needed help with.

"You are quite the interesting creature. You know that?" Xander's barely whispered voice came from the depths of his chest, the tone of it making Eleanor's legs want to buckle.

"And you are quite the devilish one." She heard the words, and understood that they came from her- but they did not sound like her. She had practically purred the words, her voice dipping into a seductive tone of which she did not know she possessed.

A rumbled growl was all Eleanor heard before she felt Xander's free arm wrap tightly around her waist, his lips taking full possession of hers. Need exploded through her entire body and hummed in her most intimate of places as she tasted his lips and felt his raw desire and passion on Xander's lips, but instead of giving in, Eleanor pressed both hands against the duke's hardened chest and stepped back.

Desire had nearly turned Xander's grey eyes black, and the very sight of him, looking so flustered, so close to losing control, sent a shot of need through her so great that she nearly leaned forward again. But this man had not answered her questions, and no matter how devilishly handsome he looked, she was not going to give him the satisfaction of giving in to him.

"I heard you were a rake," she told him, pressing harder against his chest. While he had stopped his kiss, he had not let her go. "I can now see why it is said. Now tell me what this deal is you have with my father. Why me?"

She pressed against his chest again, harder this time, and Xander complied with letting her go. He took a step backward, looking slightly shaken, and ran a hand through his mussed, dark hair before straightening his jacket.

"We will have plenty of time to talk about it when we are wed," Xander said finally, his deliciously deep voice laced with restraint. Eleanor's jaw dropped as she looked at him in shock.

"What?"

Xander nodded and took another steadying breath before his devilish grin returned.

"Yes, I believe I will be amenable to this arrangement after all," He stated confidently, his eyes slowly raking down her figure. "As for our arrangement, if you really do not know, you should ask your father."

"Your Grace, what does that mean?" Eleanor implored, starting to grow annoyed with how possessively he was looking at her. "And would you stop looking at me like that? It is most… unsettling!"

At this Xander laughed suddenly, dipped in place one more quick kiss on her lips, and then moved around her toward the door.

"Get used to it, Honey," he stated as he opened the door. "I will be your husband soon and I rather enjoy looking at you."