Claiming His Wife (Domestic Discipline 4)
Page 24
They were both speaking of more than just theater now, and something flickered across her face before she turned away from him, her lips curving into a smile as she tilted her head at Lord Northrup. Like so many men, he smiled automatically in response. When Grace was in a mood to be charming, she was like bright sunshine, nearly impossible to ignore and even more impossible to be unaffected by.
He was still going to spank her ass when
they got home, charm or not. While her antics, surprisingly, weren't riling his temper at the moment, he certainly wasn't going to let her get away without any consequences.
"As you can see, Lord Brooke and I can never agree on anything," Grace said, with an airy little laugh, even as Alex tightened his fingers warningly, pressing them into her side. She kept her gaze on Lord Northrup, and something about her demeanor made her words an open invitation. "We appreciate very different diversions."
"Which is a good example of why opposites attract," Alex said, his temper starting to stir again. Pretending to glance at the clock on the far wall, he pulled Grace into him, his anger soothed as she was pressed against his side and he could feel her own ire leap up again. For some reason, setting her off balance helped him to keep an even keel. "Excuse us, Northrup, we really should be going." He gave Grace a look full of so much sexual heat that she froze, staring up at him like a mouse that had just noticed it was being stalked by a cat. "I'm sure you understand."
"Oh ah... hmm, yes," Northrup coughed, covering his stutter as he looked back and forth between them. "Good evening, then."
The man actually blushed as he turned away. Ninny. Alex nearly snorted. If Grace truly wanted to test his possessiveness, she needed much more stalwart quarry than someone like Northrup.
Keeping a hold of his wayward wife, Alex hurried them through their goodbyes. The Countess wished them a good night with a knowing little glint in her eye that made Grace look distinctly uncomfortable. Obviously the woman thought they'd reconciled fully, and that Alex was eager to go home and claim his marital rights.
If he thought Grace would be willing, he absolutely would be, but at the moment the only thing he was going to be doing this evening was turning his wife's bottom a bright red. Of course, he'd already found that was enjoyable in its own way.
******
Grace stood in the middle of their bedroom, watching warily as Alex locked the door behind him. He'd been silent the entire carriage ride home, the glimpses of his face in the moonlight had shown a contemplative expression. Honestly, she would have been more reassured to see anger. There had been times during the evening when she'd been sure his temper had been stirring; his control over himself made her feel anxious for some reason.
Maybe because she wasn't sure how he was going to react now.
If she'd ever behaved in such a way with her father present, he probably would have dragged her from the dinner and confined her to her room for days. Probably with as little food as possible. If she resisted, she would earn a cuff or two from his fist. Then he'd ignore her again, even after she was released, unless she did something else to gain his ire.
It occurred to her that she was more comfortable with such visible anger and predictable repercussions than she was with Alex's silent contemplation.
Was he fed up with her now? Was he going to leave her? But if he was, then why lock her in the room with him? Did that mean that Eleanor had been right and he was going to spank her? A warm flush seemed to shudder through her, from her core up to her cheeks and back down again, at the thought. It might be perverse, but she would rather be spanked than sent away and rejected again.
Spanking her took effort on Alex's part. Effort that he didn't actually need to expend when it would be much easier to give up on her and divorce her. Spanking meant that he wanted to correct her behavior, because he wanted to keep her. At least, she hoped that's what it meant. She knew where her hope had gotten her before, but at least this was hope tempered with a kind of proof.
It made more sense for him to divorce her than to reconcile with her. Especially when he still hadn't claimed his marital rights. If all he wanted was an heir from her, then wouldn't he have done that already? She was his wife; legally it wouldn't be seen as forcing her. In fact, legally, she was the one currently in the wrong by denying him.
Alex turned around, his eyes looking darker than usual in the candlelight, fixing her in place with his gaze. She felt the tremor that went through her body, half excitement, half fear. When he looked at her like that, she couldn't help her body's response, the way her nipples tightened and her womanhood became hot and wet with need. She swore she could already feel an anticipatory tingle in her bottom, and her hands reflexively went behind her back, covering her cheeks.
"Turn around, Gracie, I'm going to help you take your dress off."
She didn't protest the use of his nickname for her anymore. It made her ache bitterly, for the memories, but at the same time it warmed her. Besides, he always went back to calling her that, even if he stopped for a bit.
Taking her hands off of her bottom, she turned around and wrung them in front of her, waiting for his touch.
Fingers drifted over the back of her neck and down her exposed spine. The gown she was wearing wasn't scandalous, but it was fashionably low, and she shivered as he traced a line down the center of her back until he reached the neckline. She could feel his hot breath on the back of her neck as her gown started to sag, drooping a little more with each button that was undone.
Grace told herself that she wasn't enjoying this.
However, she did enjoy his low, tortured groan as he relieved her of her corset, leaving her only in a thin, translucent chemise. She had to admit, she was having trouble standing firm in her resistance to him right now. Especially because he obviously had no intention of sending her away. No, he still wanted to reconcile. She still felt like there must be an ulterior motive, but it must be a damn good one. Tomorrow she'd search his study and see what she could find.
Alex walked around her and sat down on the bed. He'd taken his jacket, waistcoat and cravat off already and was undoing the laces on his sleeves to roll them up. Seeing him bare his forearms, the same way he'd done the last time he'd spanked her, sent a jolt of butterflies through her stomach.
She still didn't understand his motivations, but she did know that his firm resolve to correct her behavior aroused her. Comforted her in some way. Why go to all the effort of taming a recalcitrant wife? Why hold her afterwards? Unless there were emotions pressing in.
Hope had slayed her heart the last time, and she was afraid to hope again, but it burned in her chest anyway. Nearly choking her with the unresolved desires and dreams that she thought she'd given up. Because, deep down, she'd never wanted Alex to divorce her, she'd never wanted to travel to the Continent or America to start over with some other man; no, she'd wanted him. Him, the way she'd dreamed they would be.
To wonder if such a thing might be within her grasp again... it made her heart sing at the same time that it terrified her.
******
Beautiful didn't begin to describe his wife. She was staring at him with the strangest expression on her face, one that he couldn't possible interpret. Something had changed within her. Even though she was still his little firebrand, now she wasn't acting like her usual spirited self.