Darian Hunter: Duke of Desire (Dangerous Dukes 3)

A thrill of satisfaction rose up beneath Mariah’s breasts, filling her chest to bursting, in the knowledge that she had succeeded in giving Darian the same pleasure he had given her.

‘Come up here and lie beside me, Mariah, and let us both catch our breath,’ he invited gruffly now as he opened his arms to her.

Mariah moved up the bed gladly before lying down at his side, her head resting on one broad shoulder, one of her arms draped across the muscled hardness of his stomach as he stroked the long tendrils of her hair. She had never felt so relaxed, never known such peace as this existed, as she glowed in the aftermath of their lovemaking.

This, this closeness, was what it should be like between a man and a woman. What she had been denied for so many years.

What she had denied herself for so many years, too afraid to risk this vulnerability with any man. A vulnerability that Mariah now knew applied to both the man and the woman; a man could not be any more vulnerable than when he allowed a woman to take that precious part of himself into her mouth and pleasure him. As she had been just as vulnerable when she’d allowed Darian to pleasure her in the same way.

Such intimacies required complete trust, from both the man and the woman.

As Mariah had learnt to trust Darian.

Not just with her body, but with the secrets of her past, as well as her work for the Crown. She had not told him all of her secrets, of course. Had not, for instance, confided that Martin had been a traitor to his country. Or revealed that that awful time with Martin had been her only physical experience with any man before today. But she had trusted Darian with so much more than that.

Had told him what had happened to her the night of Christina’s conception.

Trusted him with the knowledge Aubrey Maystone had imparted, of the work she had carried out secretly for the Crown these past seven years.

Mariah believed she could trust Darian never to reveal those secrets to another living soul.

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As she now trusted him with her life.

With her love?

Mariah tensed, barely breathing, as she considered what her feelings were for the man beside her. For Darian Hunter, the severe and sober Duke of Wolfingham.

She did trust him, yes. She also admired him. Truly believed he was a man she could trust with her life.

But with her love?

No!

Mariah dared not allow herself to fall in love with any man. It was too much of a vulnerability. Too much power— ‘Mariah?’ Darian could feel her sudden tension as she lay so still beside him. ‘What are you thinking about?’ he prompted gently.

She made no answer for several long seconds before replying huskily, ‘Do you think the person listening to us behind the wall might have been the assassin?’

‘In all probability, yes,’ he bit out grimly. ‘Damn it, I shall have to send a note to Winterton Manor informing Aubrey Maystone of these most recent events.’

They both knew that the reason he had not already done so was because they had been too engrossed in each other, in the desire between them.

‘I shall do so as soon as I have regained the strength to get out of bed and go down to the stables in search of my groom,’ Darian added.

‘Is it possible, as we were followed up the stairs, that perhaps we have not been as clever in our deception of being lovers as we had hoped to be?’

Darian did not believe for a moment any of this conversation had been the reason behind Mariah’s sudden tension a few minutes ago; she had paused too long, considered her words for too long, before answering him. Nor was he insensitive to the fact that she seemed to be distancing herself from him once again, despite still being held in his arms, her half-naked body draped alongside his own, her hand resting warmly—trustingly?—on his chest.

At the same time he was aware of how tenuous still was the closeness between the two of them, despite the depths of the intimacies they had just shared. That unless he wished to call Mariah a liar and risk alienating her even further, he had no choice but to accept this as her explanation for her sudden quiet.

For now…

‘From the speed with which they left, once the two of us began to make love, I believe they can have no further doubt regarding the latter— Mariah?’ he questioned again sharply as he felt her increase in tension. He turned on his side to look at her searchingly, easily noting the pallor of her cheeks, the shadows in those beautiful turquoise eyes, before she lowered her long, dark silky lashes and hid those shadows from his view. ‘Do you regret what just happened between the two of us?’

She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue—tasting him there, as Darian could still taste her on his own lips? The colour that suddenly warmed her cheeks, as she became aware of her movements, would seem to imply that she did.

‘I accept it was necessary,’ she answered him evenly now. ‘If we were to successfully keep up this pretence that we are lovers.’