Claiming His Wife (Domestic Discipline 4)

Alex knew the moment Grace finally woke up, because she practically vaulted out of his arms. The wild look she gave him was replaced with an angry, pained one as soon as her bottom came into contact with the carriage bench. It was all he could do not to chuckle, but he didn't want to provoke his little wildcat of a wife any further.

Tilting her chin up, she gingerly settled back into her seat, smoothing down her hair and clothing as if pretending he didn't exist.

The past hour had been the best hour he'd had in years. Grace had reluctantly settled into his arms and then she'd fallen asleep on his shoulder, her sweet scent surrounding him, her curves resting against him. It had also been an exercise in self-control, because his body had responded to having a woman nestled up against him, especially because it was finally the right woman. Despite the aching torment of his cock, he'd fully enjoyed every last second of it.

Even now, he could barely tear his eyes away from the crease on her cheek, left from where it had pressed against his jacket.

He'd spanked her and she'd let him hold her. And she'd agreed to his terms for the future of the marriage. Obviously his friends were right. He should have taken her in hand years ago.

Chapter 2

Unruly emotions clamored inside of Grace's stomach, and she was grateful that Alex seemed content to finish the rest of the afternoon's ride in silence. It felt like she was burning, inside and out. Humiliation swept through her - truly, how stupid was she to pretend that perhaps he cared for her? - along with anger at herself, embarrassment at how easily he'd handled her, and the small, sick hope that maybe he somehow did care. She could still feel his eyes, occasionally sweeping over her, but she resisted the temptation to look at him.

Something had changed within him, obviously, and she didn't yet know how to react. Nothing was going the way she thought it would, and it put her entirely off balance.

Her bottom still smarted a bit, although the pain had swiftly dwindled. Grace's father had never disciplined her in such a manner. It would have taken effort on his part. Whenever she'd misbehaved, he'd solved it by the simple expedient of banning her from seeing her mother or sisters. Then he didn't have to deal with her at all. Loneliness was a swift teacher for a little girl. It had been her father's coldness that had spurred her desire for a marriage with something more; a man who was capable of loving her would certainly be capable of loving her children. After all, she'd seen Eleanor and Hugh's parents' relationship, she knew what a marriage could be.

Alex's determination to reconcile made her wonder if that faint spark of hope might have some justification. Immediately she squashed the thought. He'd already shattered her heart once, there was no need to give him the opportunity to grind it into dust.

Still, when they pulled up to an inn that evening, she allowed him to help her out of the carriage when he offered his hand. Although she avoided meeting his gaze.

After so many years of taking care of herself, it felt almost nice to allow him to take the lead. The few times she'd traveled with a lover, she'd always insisted on having her own room and managing her own affairs. They'd always let her. Now she was settled into a private room off to the side of the main dining room, being served her supper while Alex made arrangements with the innkeeper. She was able to relax, to sit in privacy, and not have to worry about the carriage or the bill or the room or anything at all.

Her thoughts wandered as she picked at her food. In less than a day, her life felt as though it had changed irrevocably - again. This morning she'd been Conyngham's lover, now it seemed as though Alex was determined to have her back in her place as his wife. While she didn't understand his motivations, perhaps they didn't truly matter. What she needed to decide upon was her next course of action. Her scandalous behavior hadn't driven him away, although he'd remained separate from her for years because of it. Obviously it hadn't been enough.

So what would be?

Would anything be enough?

Although he'd procured her agreement to the rules for reconciliation in the carriage, Grace didn't consider herself bound by those. Agreement under extreme duress wasn't agreement at all. She shifted uneasily in her chair. What would his reaction be if she were to break that agreement? Would he decide that she wasn't worth the continued effort? Or would he spank her again?

A hot flush went through her at the thought and she frowned at the entirely inappropriate reaction.

Of course she didn't want him to spank her again. The entire idea was ludicrous. It had been humiliating and painful, even if being cuddled by him afterwards had been nice. In its own way, that had been rather humiliating too. She shouldn't enjoy receiving any kind of comfort from the man.

Alex came back into the room, undoing the elaborate knot of his cravat and leaving it hanging around his neck. The collar of his shirt gaped open, and Grace averted her eyes, all too aware of the attraction that immediately flared in her. Her favorite time of day during their brief period of happiness had always been the evenings, when Alex would take off his jacket and cravat, the pieces of clothing he found most stifling, and just relax with her. Those were the softer times, when they would sit and talk, or read together, or play games, or when he'd start stripping off her own clothing and make love to her in whatever room they happened to be in.

She hardened her heart as Alex stripped off his jacket as well, before coming to sit down across from her. A tense silence reigned as he filled his plate, and her stomach began to roil nervously. It vexed her even more when Alex didn't seem at all affected; he began to eat, ignoring her, while she pushed her food around her plate and snuck peeks at him from beneath hooded eyes. Not once did he look at her though.

"Is my room ready?" she asked, her voice low and tense, closed-off so as not to betray her hope.

"Yes, but don't leave yet. I want to talk to you about where we're going."

Grace snorted. "Why bother? It's not like it makes a difference."

"I'm sure Eleanor will be happy to disagree with you," he said, ignoring her waspish tone. His eyes flicked up to her face, gauging her reaction to her friend's name. Even though his expression was hard, for just a moment she was almost able to believe that he actually cared, just a little bit, about what she thought. "We'll be joining her and Edwin in Bath for Wesley's wedding."

Irene had told her about the engagement, and Grace couldn’t help the little thrill that went through her at hearing she would be able to attend. She’d always loved social events anyway, and this would be a major one. The man was notorious for his affairs, his dangerous good looks, and his dark edges. He hadn't even had a full Season in the ton, but the matrons were full of gossip about his domineering manner and his scandalous perversions. Not that it made any difference; women had fallen all over themselves to trip into his bed.

Now he was getting married? That had b

een the stunned question on London’s lips.

"Well, it will be the wedding of the Season," she murmured, her lips twisting in humor that she would be there to witness it. Those same gossiping matrons would be shocked and disapproving at her inclusion in such a major event. Especially if it was at her husband's side. The tiny smile faded immediately.

From the glint in Alex's eyes, he'd caught her small moment of weakness, but thankfully he didn't say anything about it.

"It will be large enough, although not everyone will be able to leave the capital to attend. However, Hugh and Irene will be there and I expect you to behave yourself."