There was nowhere to hide from his direct gaze. Overwhelmed, she turned her head to the side.
Don’t ruin everything. He doesn’t want to hear about your jealousy over fantasy women.
Hart leaned in to rub his nose along the side of her neck. His warm breath tickled her ear. “Are you worried about what sort of husband I will make? Lucy, look at me.”
She reluctantly turned her head back to meet his gaze. “I understand that powerful men often take mistresses. But…”
“You wouldn’t like that?”
She huffed. “Of course not! No woman wants to feel that she is not enough.”
Hart froze, staring down at her. “Lucy, I would never want to make you feel that you were not enough. I know too well what that feels like. I promise, no affairs.” His features softened to a half smile. “I always intended to be a faithful husband. My biggest concern is whether you will be satisfied with this wreck of a man in front of you. Because once I make you mine, I won’t let you go to another.”
His sweet, possessive words settled into her heart. She nodded because she didn’t have the words to reply. Reaching up, she caressed his cheek, tracing his scars lightly with her fingertips. She would love him so well that he would have no choice but to love her back. Right now, though, she might expire from the heat burning in his eyes. He’d told her to tell him what she needed. “Hart.”
“Yes?”
“I need you to kiss me.”
He leaned forward until his lips were millimeters from hers. “A kiss, hmm? My pleasure.” He kissed one corner of her mouth feather lite. Then brushed another light kiss across her lips before sinking against her and languidly exploring her mouth, his tongue dipping inside to taste before he pulled back to suck her bottom lip. Unlike the other kisses they had shared, this kiss was long and sultry, leaving her wanting more.
But then Hart sat up and pulled her up to sitting as well. He tore off a piece of bread and spread some of the goat cheese across it. “Eat. I promised you food, and I shan’t be distracted.”
“But kissing is so much more fun.” She bit down on her bottom lip and grinned.
Hart groaned and leaned forward to place a swift kiss against her lips. “You are addictive. But I promised you time and space. Eat.”
Lucy dutifully took a bite of bread. Noting to herself that his eyes heated every time they strayed to her mouth. She tucked the information away for later.
*
This was notwhat she had dreamed her wedding night to be like. Tucked into bed, alone. Lucy stared up at the canopy. The yellow-gold fringe along the edge of the pale pink velvet was the most hideous thing she had ever seen. She blew out a long breath. This morning Hart’s sweet words that they would wait until she was ready seemed so chivalrous. Now she craved his presence. More kisses, more heated looks, more… well… more.
After dinner, Hart had led her up to their suite. He had given the room a cursory glance and asked her if it was satisfactory. When she nodded, he had strode across to open a door and proceeded to show her the dressing room and adjoining sitting room.
Then back through to the bedroom they had trooped, where he had opened another door to reveal the water closet, which had a large claw foot tub at its center. He pointed to the other side of the room. “That leads to my bedroom. If you need anything at all, let me know.” He had stood there for a long moment, almost as though he wanted to say something else. But then he turned and disappeared into his suite.
Lucy had stared at the carved wooden door. What now? Was she to get ready for bed? She’d called for her maid. Helen helped her change into a beautifully embroidered nightgown in a gossamer fabric that was quite transparent. When she raised her eyebrows at her reflection, Helen had giggled, actually giggled, and then said that the duke would be so pleased. She’d brushed out Lucy’s hair and tucked her into bed before leaving for the night. And that was where Lucy had lain for the last hour.
Hart was not going to come to her. She sat up in bed with a huff, pushing the sheets off. He had made it plain he planned to wait for her to make the decision as to when they would consummate their marriage. But she had not expected it to be this hard to gather her courage. Just get out of bed and go to him.Perhaps he is waiting for you, desperate, wanting you.She swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Crossed through the water closet to the door to his room, but then she paused.Should she knock?It was polite to knock.
She knocked. No response.Was he asleep?She knocked louder. Still nothing. If he was asleep, would he mind if she crawled in next to him? She glanced back over her shoulder toward her bedroom. Anything was better than sleeping in that cavernous bed by herself.
Lucy turned the knob and slowly opened the door. The room was dark save for the moonlight that shone through an open window onto an obviously empty bed. Lucy crossed her arms over her chest. So much for her fantasy that he would be in bed desperately waiting for her to come to him.
Where was her husband?She glanced around the room. Just as large as hers, his was decorated in dark blues and greens. A single leather chair sat in front of the fireplace. Beyond that, she could make out the shadowed shape of an armoire and a wash basin beside it. A breeze blew into the room, fluttering gauzy curtains. Lucy turned and went back to her room. She marched across to the dressing table and snatched up a silky robe from the chair. She tied the belt tightly, slipped out of the room, and headed for the stairs.
At the top, she paused. Should she be walking through the house in her nightclothes? This was her house now; she could explore it looking for her errant husband if she chose. Resolved, she padded down the stairs. The footman assigned to the front door startled when he spotted her. Which one was he? Herman? Herbert?
“May I help you with anything, Your Grace?”
Lucy pulled herself up as tall as she could. Trying not to blush at being seen in her robe and bare feet. “Yes, Herbert. I’m in search of my husband.”
“Yes, ma’am. I saw him go into his study about an hour ago. Down the corridor, third door on your left.”
“Thank you.” She hurried towards Hart’s study and, without knocking, slipped inside. She leaned back against the door and briefly shut her eyes.
“Lucy?” Hart’s deep voice called out.
