Claiming His Wife (Domestic Discipline 4)

Other than after he'd spanked her, or when she accidentally moved towards him in her sleep, Alex had barely touched her at all. Now she was letting him. Had agreed to it. Had she been mad?

She kept her face tilted away from him, unsure if she'd be able to hide the confusion and distress that she felt over her pleasure at his nearness.

"You look ravishing tonight," he said, his voice low so that others passing by them wouldn't be able to hear them over the music. "Then again, you always look stunning, but I do like this dress in particular. Did you wear it because you remembered how much I like you in red?"

Pursing her lips, she shook her head, but in her heart she suddenly wondered. Had she dressed to taunt him or to please him?

"You think rather highly of yourself, don't you?" she asked tartly.

"Why shouldn't I, when I have the most beautiful woman in the room in my arms?"

Her heart skipped a beat, and she wished he didn't sound so sincere. It was hard to maintain her anger when Alex was being charming. Complimentary. Acting as though he cared. It brought up the most awful feelings of wistful hope inside of her, made her think about Eleanor's theory that perhaps he truly did value Grace for herself and he just hadn't known it till she was gone. But then Grace had to remind herself that it had apparently taken him years to figure it out, and he was probably motivated by something other than emotion.

After all, he'd proven himself to be just like her father, valuing business and money over emotions and caring.

But it was hard to remember that in moments like this, when he was holding her so closely and looking at her like she was the only woman in the world. Heat high in her cheeks, she kept her face turned away, not knowing how to respond to him.

Alex took her silence as a positive sign. If she were stone, holding firm against him, then he would be water, slowly wearing down her resistance. He was certain he was wearing her down. Just like tonight, when he'd waited patiently by her side, hoping that eventually she'd relent and dance with him. Now she was. That had been his first major victory of the evening.

Smaller victories included making her shiver and blush, which she was doing right now. She couldn't completely contain her physical responses to him, and he was more than willing to play on those.

The more time he spent with her, the easier it was to remember his former, more charming, happier self. Even if she was angry with him all the time, at least she was there. And she was softening. The fact that he held her in her arms and made her blush was proof of that. She didn't protest about sleeping in the same bed anymore either.

When the dance was done, Alex took her back to the side of the ballroom. Edwin and Eleanor had vacated the space, but Hugh and Irene had taken their place.

"Edwin took Nell home, she wasn't feeling too well," Hugh said. He didn't appear concerned, however, so Alex knew it wasn't anything dire. Smi

ling down at Grace, Hugh patted Irene's hand and then released her to hold his hand out to Grace. "Lady Brooke, would you like to dance?"

"Yes, please," she said, with every evidence of relief, shooting Alex a triumphant look before turning away to take Hugh's hand.

Alex hid his smile. Even that was a victory, because she'd cared enough to make a point to him. It didn't matter what the point was. He turned to Irene. "Well, pet, would you like to dance?"

"Absolutely," Irene said, smiling up at him enthusiastically. They hadn't quite managed to return to their old camaraderie yet, Alex still felt a bit strange about touching her after that scene in the garden, but they were on their way. Fortunately, the current song was a quadrille, which didn't require the same kind of intimacy that a waltz did.

While he was dancing with Irene, he couldn't help but watch Grace. She was aptly named, her every movement was long and elegant, like a siren’s call to his senses.

Unfortunately, Hugh's dance with her seemed to be some kind of signal to the other men in attendance. No sooner had the dance ended and they'd returned to the sidelines, than a young lord stepped up to ask Grace to dance. Of course, at events such as this, that was completely normal. Alex's behavior tonight, keeping the men from even asking her for a dance, had been decidedly unusual amongst the ton. In London, it would have been more than frowned upon, he probably would have found himself overrun by outraged matrons.

After all, most of the time, husbands didn't hover over their wives at balls, so if the women wanted to dance, it wasn't going to be with their spouse.

Although, Alex had only meant to keep Grace off the dance floor until she acquiesced to dance with him, it was still hard to see her take the floor, laughing and smiling with another man. With an internal sigh, he turned and asked one of the young matrons at the edge of the floor to join him. If Grace was going to dance, he was going to dance.

He'd learned his lesson about hurting his own cause though. The moment the dance ended, he returned the flirtatious matron to her place and took his own beside Grace. The musicians were resting for the moment, and the young buck she'd been dancing with had taken it upon himself to retain her hand as they chatted. Alex had absolutely no compunction about pushing his way between them and taking Grace's hand back for his own.

"Lord Brooke," the younger man said, immediately letting Grace go. He might be a rake-in-training, but he knew when he was outclassed.

Alex eyed him without malice. "My apologies, I don't believe we've been introduced."

"Marbury," he said, with a grin.

"Ah, the name I've heard," Alex said, raising his eyebrow. Marbury was a bit more than a rake-in-training, but he was also known for not poaching protected preserves. As long as Alex made it clear he wasn't going to stand for any dalliances with his wife, he would have nothing to fear from Marbury. "Your grays are superb."

Other than his exploits in the bedroom, Marbury was also known for being a notable whip. Alex had seen his team, a matching set of feisty grays, on the street, although he'd never gotten a good look at the man driving them.

"Matchless," Marbury said with an almost boyish grin. "But they should be considering the cost."

Beside them, Grace made an indelicate snorting sound. "Men and their horses."