“Perhaps it would be better if I went to one of your country homes and make myself scarce.”
His face darkened, his entire countenance shifting in such a way that it was not the ducal air that returned but something else entirely — something darker, more possessive.
“Is that what you want?”
“I do not want to cause any further problems.”
“You do realize that you have done nothing wrong?” he said.
“Yes, but because of me?—”
“Stop. Stop right now,” he said, the words coming out low and menacing. “I told you not to say anything foolish.”
“I hardly think that is foolish.”
“You being here does not make anything harder. Do not let the machinations of other people scare you away. You are stronger than that.”
“But—”
“Evelyn,” he said, stepping forward until they were but a breath apart. “You wear always this mask of calm, and I respect that. But sometimes, you need to get angry. Stand up for yourself. Don’t let others do what they please because you let them. Do you understand me?”
She nodded.
“I asked if you understood me.”
“Yes,” she breathed, looking up at him, her entire body tingling with awareness at this complete and total powerful show of masculinity.
Then he leaned down.
And he kissed her.
When his lips brushed against hers, she resisted for just a moment. There was so much more she needed to say, more she needed to tell him, but right here, right now, she wanted to hold onto this moment with him, to sear this memory into her mind. She could admit, to herself if to no one else, that she was falling for him, and she wanted nothing more than to lose herself in his arms and feel what it would be like to be held by him, loved by his body.
“I want to be with you,” she murmured. “To show you my thanks for all that you have done for me.”
He lifted his head to stare down at her, his brow furrowed.
“Do not do anything for me out of gratitude. Only out of desire for this. For me.”
“Oh, I want to,” she said, breathing a bit harder. “That, I can assure you.”
He nodded, those beautiful blue eyes seeming to stare right through her, assessing her. He seemed to come to some sort of acceptance, for then he lowered his head, kissing her again, tasting her, sighing into her, and she couldn’t help but melt against him.
Evelyn had completely forgotten that they were standing in the middle of the corridor where anyone could walk by and see them until he reached down, caught her thighs beneath the fabric of her gown, and lifted her off her feet up against him.
“What are you doing?” she gasped.
“Taking my bride to bed,” he growled as he kicked open the slightly ajar door to his bedroom and strode inside. “I can’t keep control around you much longer,” he said. “You’ve been testing my patience.”
“Have I, now?” she asked as she squeezed her legs around him, feeling warmth flood her body, pooling in the center where she was spread open against him.
She waited for him to lay her down on the bed, but instead, he turned around and sat back on it, lying all the way down until she was straddling him.
He wasn’t done, though, for he lifted his hands and palmed her breasts, flicking his thumb over her nipples, causing a moan to release from her throat.
With his skillful hands, he made her forget about all the rumors, all the hidden threats against them, all the reasons that she was trying to distance herself from him.
Instead of distance, she followed the need to be closer.
