his exploration, relishing her warmth, tasting her sweetness. At this moment she was his—wife, his duchess, his seducer.
He pulled back slightly, pressing a kiss to one corner of her mouth, then the other. He nestled her face back into the crook of her shoulder, listened to her rapid breathing, and the thundering of his blood between his ears.
Ah, yes, he’d made another ghastly mistake.
“That was quite simply…marvelous,” she said when her breathing had quieted. “I don’t understand why society frowns on kissing.”
Because it was much easier for a man to deny himself the pleasure of a lady he’d never tasted. But to know the reality of his mouth fastened to hers and to still deny oneself—Robert didn’t know if he had the strength.
“You should try to sleep now,” he said, his voice sounding like sand blown over rocks.
“Did you find the kiss pleasing?” she asked.
“Remarkably so.”
“It’s a wonder people don’t spend all their time kissing.”
“The danger in a kiss is that it can lead to other more intimate pleasures, and not all men have the strength to resist the temptation to explore those other pleasures.”
“Marriage removes the need to resist.”
“Yes.”
“Will we arrive at Hawthorne House tomorrow?”
“In all likelihood, yes. You would do well to sleep now.”
He didn’t want to discuss what she thought would happen once they arrived at his family estate, because what she hinted she wanted, could not occur. Not if he was to return her to John.
He relished the feel of her body relaxing against his, her hand curled against his chest. Such an innocent display of trust.
He wanted to stretch out full-length and have her lying beside him, completely, with no space separating them. It didn’t matter that they were both fully clothed. It mattered only that her weight pressed against him, and it was the most incredible sensation. After so long, he was no longer alone.
And although he knew it was but a physical impression creating an emotional deception, he still welcomed the joy that it brought, to once again be out in the world where he could travel in a coach at his leisure simply because he wished to, where he could hold a woman beside him and welcome the possibilities…
He moved his hand up, gingerly skimming his fingers over her hair. More silk. Or perhaps satin. He was incredibly tempted to remove the pins holding everything in place so the strands could fill his hands. The moonlight glinted off her dark hair, her pale skin, giving her an ethereal quality.
She sighed, and he wondered what visions filled her dreams. Did she dream of the man she cared for incredibly desperately? Or did she dream of the man who had kissed her?
He had no plans to give in to sleep tonight, because the waking dream was more wonderful than anything his imagination would conjure.
She tempted him to truly make her his wife. The law gave him the right, which was more than his brother had ever given him. She was his wife; her body belonged to him. But her heart…apparently it belonged to his brother.
He had no intention of making her suffer for his brother’s sins, yet even as the thought took hold, he realized he was doing exactly that. By taking her as his wife, by not revealing the truth of the situation.
As he held her, he couldn’t help but wish that she was truly his.
Chapter 8
S itting on the floor in the corner of a darkened room, Prisoner D3, 10 stared into the gray darkness. He’d awoken to find himself there, in solitary confinement, no windows, no light, the damned hood covering his face. He had yet to remove it.
What if someone opened the door? What if someone saw this face that he hated? This face that looked exactly like his brother’s?
He wondered at the time. What was his brother doing now?
Surely he’d not carried through with the wedding ceremony. Of course he had. His brother had always wanted everything—everything towhich he wasn’t entitled. He’d
He pulled back slightly, pressing a kiss to one corner of her mouth, then the other. He nestled her face back into the crook of her shoulder, listened to her rapid breathing, and the thundering of his blood between his ears.
Ah, yes, he’d made another ghastly mistake.
“That was quite simply…marvelous,” she said when her breathing had quieted. “I don’t understand why society frowns on kissing.”
Because it was much easier for a man to deny himself the pleasure of a lady he’d never tasted. But to know the reality of his mouth fastened to hers and to still deny oneself—Robert didn’t know if he had the strength.
“You should try to sleep now,” he said, his voice sounding like sand blown over rocks.
“Did you find the kiss pleasing?” she asked.
“Remarkably so.”
“It’s a wonder people don’t spend all their time kissing.”
“The danger in a kiss is that it can lead to other more intimate pleasures, and not all men have the strength to resist the temptation to explore those other pleasures.”
“Marriage removes the need to resist.”
“Yes.”
“Will we arrive at Hawthorne House tomorrow?”
“In all likelihood, yes. You would do well to sleep now.”
He didn’t want to discuss what she thought would happen once they arrived at his family estate, because what she hinted she wanted, could not occur. Not if he was to return her to John.
He relished the feel of her body relaxing against his, her hand curled against his chest. Such an innocent display of trust.
He wanted to stretch out full-length and have her lying beside him, completely, with no space separating them. It didn’t matter that they were both fully clothed. It mattered only that her weight pressed against him, and it was the most incredible sensation. After so long, he was no longer alone.
And although he knew it was but a physical impression creating an emotional deception, he still welcomed the joy that it brought, to once again be out in the world where he could travel in a coach at his leisure simply because he wished to, where he could hold a woman beside him and welcome the possibilities…
He moved his hand up, gingerly skimming his fingers over her hair. More silk. Or perhaps satin. He was incredibly tempted to remove the pins holding everything in place so the strands could fill his hands. The moonlight glinted off her dark hair, her pale skin, giving her an ethereal quality.
She sighed, and he wondered what visions filled her dreams. Did she dream of the man she cared for incredibly desperately? Or did she dream of the man who had kissed her?
He had no plans to give in to sleep tonight, because the waking dream was more wonderful than anything his imagination would conjure.
She tempted him to truly make her his wife. The law gave him the right, which was more than his brother had ever given him. She was his wife; her body belonged to him. But her heart…apparently it belonged to his brother.
He had no intention of making her suffer for his brother’s sins, yet even as the thought took hold, he realized he was doing exactly that. By taking her as his wife, by not revealing the truth of the situation.
As he held her, he couldn’t help but wish that she was truly his.
Chapter 8
S itting on the floor in the corner of a darkened room, Prisoner D3, 10 stared into the gray darkness. He’d awoken to find himself there, in solitary confinement, no windows, no light, the damned hood covering his face. He had yet to remove it.
What if someone opened the door? What if someone saw this face that he hated? This face that looked exactly like his brother’s?
He wondered at the time. What was his brother doing now?
Surely he’d not carried through with the wedding ceremony. Of course he had. His brother had always wanted everything—everything towhich he wasn’t entitled. He’d
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