She’s mine.
From a distance, he watched her laugh with the ladies. Her charm was effortless, and her presence was magnetic.
His thoughts churned. The memory of stroking her soft skin while she lay bare across the kitchen table clashed with the sight of her now, confident and untamed.
He tensed when Lord Ashton approached her. He was one of the youngest gentlemen in the ton and known to be quite rakish. Yet something about the young man’s smile felt too familiar as he leaned close to Camelia and coaxed a genuine laugh from her.
Raph’s grip on his glass tightened until he heard a soft crack. A wave of possessiveness surged through him.
He advanced, then stopped and muttered to himself, “Get a grip, Raph.”
But she’s mine. My Duchess. My wife.
“You know… jealousy doesn’t suit you.” David’s teasing tone pulled him out of his dark thoughts.
Raph shot his friend a cold glare, yet he was glad to see a friendly face. “Don’t be absurd, David. She’s my Duchess; she knows her place.”
“She sure does. She’s charming half the ton while you brood in the corner.”
“Such is the duty of a duchess. Is Lord Ashton standing too close to her?”
David laughed and clapped him on the back. “Wipe that dreary look off your face, Raph. I’m sure Lord Ashton is just complimenting her gown and charming her wit. Relax, you’ve got no rival there. And when can I expect my turn to converse with your darling wife?”
Raph ignored his last question. “Dreary look? This is how I look naturally.”
“Oh,” David muttered with a frown.
The two friends eyed each other and chuckled.
“Can you quit staring like a hawk? I’m sure you make her laugh much more!” David took a swig of his drink as a young lady smiled and brushed past him. His eyes followed her until she gave him one last bashful look and disappeared in the crowd.
“Hypocrite,” Raph scoffed.
“That’s no way to talk to a friend,” David said sternly, but a hint of humor betrayed him.
Raph’s eyes drifted back to Camelia.“Why didn’t she laugh like that in my presence?”
He had been too busy making her moan and cry out in pleasure that he hadn’t thought of the simpler duties, like making his wife laugh.
Camelia’s head was tilted back now, her laughter ringing across the room as Lord Ashton gestured animatedly. She was radiant, and it killed Raph that another man drew that laugh from her.
“I do not doubt that you have the humor of a court jester, old friend. I do not doubt it all.” David’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Speaking of Camelia, where are her lovely sisters?”
“They couldn’t make it to the ball; their father was unwell.”
“How disappointing. Will he recover?”
“Yes, thankfully.”
Raph felt terrible for dragging Camelia to the ball, but she was not reluctant when she received the news.
“Enough about them. What’s your excuse for lurking here instead of charming the ladies in London’s bars?”
David laughed, deflecting. “Oh, I’m charming enough here as it is. But I’m more interested in watching you unravel, Raph. Your Duchess is trouble, and you love it.”
Raph drained his glass, his eyes locked on Camelia. “Trouble is what she is. But you were right, David, about letting her in.”
“How did that go?”
