Chapter 8
It had been four days, and Duncan and Hannah hadn’t left his bed. Well, they had. But only to fuck on the floor. Or the chair. Or in the tub. Or to eat. Sometimes food. Sometimes each other. Sometimes both. And Duncan, who had always prided himself on being the kind of man who pleasured and left, felt no less desire for his wife now than he had the first night he’d touched her at the masquerade.
Hannah was…remarkable. Responsive, open, passionate. And when they weren’t delving into the endless ways to pleasure each other, he also just enjoyed being with her. Without the terror of a badly arranged marriage hanging over her, she was remarkably witty and quick to laugh. She smiled, even in her sleep.
And when she did, it was like someone had lit a thousand candles in his life.
He curled harder around her, smoothing his hands along the lines of her sides as she mumbled something sweet and incoherent and wriggled closer to him. “Duncan,” she murmured, her voice sleepy.
“Yes?” he asked.
“Do we ever intend to leave this room, or is this just life now?” she asked, perfectly echoing his own thoughts from a moment ago without even knowing it.
He tensed at the idea that they were so in tune and then leaned in to kiss her neck. “I think leaving this bed seems like a terrible idea. The whole world is out there. Just waiting to be dreadful. Why not stay here and just…” He ground against her gently and felt her jolt in response.
She grabbed his hand and lifted it to her lips, kissing his knuckles gently. “But what if I’m sore and I miss the fresh air?”
He leaned up on his elbow and leaned over so he could see her face. “You’re hurting?” he asked, tugging her shoulder so she was lying on her back.
“Deliciously so,” she said with a saucy wink. “Apparently that is what happens when one’s husband cannot get enough. Are you not a little…er…raw?”
He was, but he rather liked it. Raw from a good fucking was the only way to be raw. Still, he shrugged. “So you’re saying a day out and about might make up for all the time I’ve kept you locked away like some princess in a tower?”
She giggled. “Perish the thought! A whole day? No, no. I would not want more than an hour outside of this room. We are right across from the park. Why don’t we take a walk?”
He grumbled, but it was all for show. “Fine,” he grunted. “I will ring the bell and have your likely scandalized maid join you in the adjoining chamber to dress you. Meet in an hour?”
She nodded and then reached up to cup the back of his neck. She drew him in, hesitating just a breath from his lips. “Thank you, Duncan.”
He blinked and pulled back to look into her face. “For what?”
“All of this. It’s wonderful. I will never forget it, even when you’ve tired of me.”
She kissed him then, just a gentle brush of her lips on his. She slipped from the bed and padded utterly naked into the adjoining room. He stared as she did so, shocked by what she’d said.
Of course, that was the arrangement they’d made together. That they would indulge passion until it cooled, but one day he would be free to pursue outside interests. He had actually thought that with her gentle upbringing Hannah might swiftly change her mind on that score. That she would wish for more connection, for a love he wasn’t certain he could give.
And yet even after the past four delicious days, she seemed not a bit more possessive, nor aching for what he’d never promised. He should have been pleased at that fact. He should have been thanking his stars that he had married not only a magnificent lover but one who demanded nothing else from him. And yet, as he lay on his bed staring at the now closed door between them, he felt none of those things.
He felt…irritated. At her for so easily dismissing their connection. At himself for being the one who longed for something beyond passion. It was ridiculous. It was just how responsive she was to his every wicked desire that made him so foolishly besotted. He would put a stop to it. Today.
* * *
Hannah wasn’t certain what had changed since she departed Duncan’s bed, but something had shifted between them. They strolled through the park together, her arm in his, and yet she felt none of the easy connection they’d built in the time since their marriage.
Truth be told, she missed it, and her chest hurt as she glanced over at his stern expression.
“I looked over our invitations after I dressed,” she said, making an effort to seem light and unaffected.
“Did you?” he asked, tone bored and distant.
She swallowed. “Yes. It seems we are quite popular since our unexpected wedding. We’ve been invited to three balls next week.”
He glanced at her, and for a moment the wall he was erecting came down a fraction. “Would it give you pleasure to attend them?”
She shrugged. “Pleasuremight not be the best word for it. I know we will be the center of attention and there will likely even be some impertinent remarks about us. But I do think it will help us if we go and put forth a united front.”
He glanced away. “Let the world see our marriage is solid,” he said. “For show.”
