To Desire a Wicked Duke (Courtship Wars)

Her passionate response to his lovemaking had been everything he’d imagined and more, Ian admitted, remembering her sweet cries of pleasure. She was even more beautiful in her arousal than he’d anticipated, making all his past encounters with other lovers pale in comparison.

It was his own response that deeply concerned Ian. The pleasure he’d experienced with Tess had been shattering. Despite his extensive carnal experience, he’d felt the effects of their union as if it were his first.

And now he was lying here in the aftermath of passion, treasuring the quiet intimacy of holding her, relishing her scent on his skin.

Ian spread his fingers in the dark richness of her hair, luxuriating in the texture of it. Taking her innocence had left him hungry and aching for more of her.

Tess glanced up at him then. Her beautiful face was still flushed, her eyes hazy with sated passion, her thick sable hair a sultry tangle, her mouth swollen from his kisses.

Remembering the ripe softness of her lips, Ian felt a rush of desire that only made him want to be inside her again. He wouldn’t use her body so harshly her first time, though. Yet he knew one night with Tess would never satisfy him. He wanted the rights of a lover, of a husband. He wanted to lose himself in the tempting fire of her—

“I will return to my own bedchamber in the morning, Rotham.”

Her husky declaration coming so unexpectedly dashed cold water over his alluring fantasies.

Wondering if she was merely unnerved by the potent emotions sizzling between them, as he was, he kept his voice even when he replied. “You are welcome to sleep in my bed from now on.”

“I see no need for us to share a bedchamber. You promised we could live separate lives, remember?”

Ian didn’t dispute her, although familiar irritation clawed at him. It was bad enough that his own wife didn’t want to share his bed. It stung more that Tess was pretending indifference after the remarkable passion they had just shared. How could she so blatantly ignore her obvious desire for him?

Then again, he would be wise to ignore his own fierce desire for her, Ian realized. Just now, self-preservation needed to be his chief concern. Particularly since after tonight, his feelings for Tess were even more raw and conflicted.

He was in perilous, uncharted waters; possessiveness had sunk its talons deep into him.

He meant to fight his vulnerability to her, though, Ian vowed. He’d seen her effect on other men, his own cousin most of all. He could well remember Richard being reduced to a lovesick supplicant with Tess, behaving like an adoring puppy, hanging on her every word, her enchanting smile, her delightful laughter.

He had no intention of loving Tess, Ian promised himself. He wouldn’t let himself be drawn into that desperate affliction as his cousin had been. Especially when she would never return any tender feelings of love for him.

Tess was still in love with his dead cousin, Ian reminded himself grimly. He couldn’t compete with the beloved memory of a war hero.

At the reflection, he felt a muscle in his jaw harden. He didn’t want to compete for Tess’s affections.

But clearly he needed to make their battlefield more even. To ensure that his weakness for his lovely wife was not just one-sided.

There would likely never be love between them, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t do everything in his power to make Tess want him just as fiercely as he wanted her.

Surely I can learn to control my desire for him.

—Diary Entry of Miss Tess Blanchard

Hoping to avoid the servants, Tess returned to her own room at daybreak, wearing Rotham’s dressing gown. But as she reached her bedchamber door, she spied Fanny coming down the corridor from the opposite direction.

Her friend followed her inside, evidently eager to have a coze.

“I have been waiting for ages for you to return,” Fanny said at once. “When you didn’t answer my knock earlier, I presumed you were with the duke—and I see I was right.” Her perceptive gaze took in Tess’s nightclothes and passion-bruised mouth. “Well? Was the consummation what you expected?”

Color mounted her cheeks at the intimate question. The consummation had been perfectly glorious, was her silent response. To Tess’s surprise, however, Rotham hadn’t made love to her again after that first time. She’d spent the remainder of the night sleeping wrapped in his arms, and he had let her go this morning with nothing more than a casual, almost lazy kiss. Even so, she was acutely conscious of her lost virginity. She could feel the new sensitivity of her body … a tingling ache between her thighs, a swelling heaviness in her breasts.

“Yes, you were right about everything, Fanny,” Tess admitted.

A rather smug smile touched the courtesan’s mouth. “So, does this mean you will be moving into your husband’s rooms?”

“No, it does not,” she replied emphatically. “I only stayed with Rotham last night because I was frightened.” Quickly Tess explained about being startled out of her dreams by eerie sensations and taking refuge in Rotham’s rooms. “Our marriage is consummated now, but we have agreed to continue keeping separate apartments.”

“A pity,” Fanny responded. Yet she seemed to understand Tess’s concern. “If you are careful, you can still enjoy passion without involving any tender emotions. There is no reason to deny yourself the pleasure of having Rotham as a lover.”

Tess shook her head. “I don’t want to risk it. What about you, Fanny?” she asked to change the subject. “Did you make any progress in your clandestine courtship of Basil?”