The Duke's Reluctant Bride

Now that he noted how scared she looked he wondered if he’d have done better to keep her company. On her own, she’d clearly tormented herself with imaginary terrors.

“Would you like something to eat?”

Her pale face and glittering eyes told him that he needed to work up to discussing anything important.

She shook her head. Her hair lay loose around her shoulders. He’d never seen her hair undone. The flowing curtain transformed her into a mysterious and sensual creature.

Watching him with her characteristic gravity, she was beautiful beyond fantasy. How strange to recognize that despite his experience, tonight he was a novice like his bride. Never had getting everything right mattered so much. He respected Emma’s strength, but despite her strength, she was delicate.

At this moment, he made the silent vow that he’d never let her down. He poured claret for both of them and approached the bed, sitting to face her. Her mysterious blue eyes widened at his nearness but at least she didn’t shrink away. He passed his wife a glass of wine.

“To our happiness.”

After a hesitation that jabbed at his heart, she took a sip. “Should I lie down?”

He hid a wince at the little question. He kept smiling, wishing she’d smile back.

“Shall we talk for a few moments first?”

The flash of relief in her eyes pricked his vanity. “Do you know what’s going to happen?”

“My…my aunt told me.”

Bloody hell. He could imagine how that had gone.

He stepped nearer still, bringing them at once entirely too close together and not nearly close enough. The torchlight danced in his eyes and bathed his skin in a warm, golden glow. He looked . . . determined. Decided. But not altogether sure of himself.

Instead of releasing her hand, he raised it to his lips and placed a soft, gentle kiss to her knuckles. Awareness raced down her back in a flurry of gooseflesh—he had never done such a thing before.

When he lifted his head, his gaze flicked to just over her shoulder before meeting hers.

“Do you trust me?” There was an edge to his voice that wasn’t there moments earlier.

“Should I?” She didn’t know what he was asking, but she knew instinctually that it was important.

“Probably not.”

A ghost of a smile slipped over her lips. “Then you should not ask it of me.”

With a sharp tug, he pulled her flat against his chest and before she could do little more than gasp, his lips crashed down upon hers. A thousand butterflies set flight in her stomach.

She moaned with the pure pleasure of it. His lips were deliciously warm, and fit against hers as if they’d been molded for each other. The smell of his skin was like a drug, sending ribbons of pleasure through her whole body. It was perfection. Even better, if that was possible.

Noting the spark of hope in her eyes, he gently brought his finger under her chin and tilted her head back so he could get a better look at her.

She wasn’t trying to get away from him. In fact, she was still looking at him, and better yet, the wall she’d erected to keep him ou

t had faded. She had finally let him in. But just as soon as she seemed to be opening up to him, she pulled away.

He pulled back slightly and whispered against her lips, “I’m sorry.”

Sorry? Bewilderment stilled her body, and a heartbeat later he launched himself backwards, as if pushed by an unseen force.

“You are aware, of course, that I returned home from Scotland to discover that the lady I had assumed I would marry had already married another?” Alexander said.

“I am afraid so. It is impossible to escape gossip, especially when everybody seems so awfully keen to pass it on. "

"I was so shocked for so many days that I could hardly work out how I really felt about things. I was so shocked that I was not even hurt in the beginning.”