“Yes?” he urged her to finish.
Daria placed both hands over her heart. “W-Would you do those things with our son?”
Our son.
Theirs.
His and Daria’s.
Hearing her mention and being forced to think of a child borne to them…didn’t strike the fear it ought.
For the first time in his life, it made Gregory think what manner of father he’d be. Oh, for certain he’d be a rotten one. But would he initiate him into the world of debauchery as his own sire had?
A feeling of distaste soured his stomach. For all his proclivities, he did not possess the perversities of his late sire. Could he abuse his wife as the duke had done? Drag a lad not much older than little Eris off to some brothel? Unequivocally, he could not.
“I would not, Daria. I won’t,” he said quietly. “I’m a rake, but I’m not…I’m not…”
“A monster.” Her murmur managed to make those two words an endearment.
He gave a tight nod.
The last bloody person he wanted to think about now, or ever, and especially not at this particular moment, was the late duke.
Argyll slid behind his wife and captured her on either side of her shoulders. “Now, if we can set aside all this talk, little raven.”Please. “As I’d greatly like return to the matter of seducing my wife.” He lowered his mouth.
He stopped. Had he truly believed his bride laconic? Here she was, in his arms, talking about art, and his father, and…who knew what else she had for him.
“How very practiced it all is,” she said softly, to herself. “Now, I understand why.”
His mind blanked.
A dark sensation stirred in his chest. He wanted none of this.
Not the excavation of pasts. Not the scrutiny of futures. Not the dangerous territory of imagined children.
He wanted one thing. The same thing he had always wanted from women.
To take her.
To lose himself in the uncomplicated certainty of it.
Sex was safe.
What was unfolding here—between him and Daria—was anything but.
“What about this, my beautiful defender?” he said silkily, deliberately avoiding those terms he’d tossed out as something more than they were. “I’ve indulged you. Let me coax another orgasm from your sweet body, and if you still wish to talk…” Argyll let the rest trail off, already knowing there’d be no further discussion.
Not on weighty matters or things that further opened them to one another.
Tonight, would be about pure, unadulterated sex.
Then, and only then, would he be able to claim his self-control from his stubborn bride.
Chapter 21
Daria knew what Gregory sought to do.
She drew in a shuddering breath, caught between desire and reason.
