Arabella stayed still as he looked at her over his shoulder.
“I will have you know, my lady,” he dared a look into those ocean blue eyes, “that I do not ruthlessly take what is not given to me.”
Arabella looked up, and the expression on those oceanic eyes was enigmatic. Gerald frowned at that deep look. He couldn’t fathom what his wife was thinking at this moment.
“Arabella,” he tried to sound calmer, “I will not even discuss this while you are unwilling.”
The door opened, and he couldn’t wait to go to his study, pour himself some whiskey, and hopefully wait for exhaustion to grant him some rest. One foot was already out of the room when he heard her voice, loud and clear.
“I am not unwilling.”
He froze on the spot. Perhaps his wife didn’t realize what she had just admitted, what that admission meant to him.
“Careful, Arabella.”
“I am sure we are way past that. I just wanted to be sure that you knew that I am not being forced or unwilling.”
The Duke contemplated whether he should allow her more time to reconsider, to be clear what exactly she was declaring to him. But he had just been gentleman enough to her, he was basically out the door.
He very slowly turned and looked into her eyes. He had never told her, and perhaps he would never, but he had never seen a bluer blue in all the world. And now, those blues were looking expectantly at him.
“Do you have any idea, Arabella, what exactly these words mean?”
He studied her flushed face, tinted pink at the cheeks, her lips swollen by the many times she had chewed upon them. Her breathing came in shallow gasps, her eyes wide. No, Arabella didn’t exactly know what she was inviting, but she knew she wanted to. And heavens helped him, he wanted her too.
“Tell me, Arabella,” he walked back into the room. “If I close this door and stay, do you know what will happen?”
Arabella didn’t answer, just bit her lip. He watched her teeth go over her plump lips, and a deep-seated hunger woke inside him. He had promised he would ask for permission for every little step, but he couldn’t keep that promise. Without asking, he closed the door behind him.
“I must warn you that if I start, if I even touch you just once, I won’t be able to stop. So you will have one chance, and one chance only, to tell me to leave your private chambers, and we will discuss the matter on a different day. But if you say nothing…” He finished his sentence with a low growl, rumbling from deep within his chest, a warning and a promise wrapped together in a thick layer of lust.
He expected to see fear in her eyes. Even the tiniest flicker would be enough for him to stop and leave. But Arabella was set on being defiant tonight. The only thing he saw in her eyes was threatening to consume and burn them both. He was ready to scorch everything in his path just to get to her when he saw just one little fracture of apprehension.
It was not uncommon for women to be warned about their first night with a man in the bleakest of colors. Most women had a bad experience with blood, discomfort, and pain. Gerald realized that maybe Arabella was warned about intimacy in the same way. He decided to follow a different strategy. After all, Arabella was his wife in his house. He was to touch and feel without anyone stopping him except for her. And he intended to give her all the time she needed.
He stepped closer, slow and deliberate, allowing his eyes to take in the sight of her. All this began with the stupid contract between two drunk men. How could he be so lucky that the subject of this contract turned out to be such a beautiful, voluptuous, defiant, utterly fascinating woman? Perhaps some grace saw all the ugly things that had happened in his life and decided that he could have this much.
“I think it’s better,” he said and moved closer, “if we just make sure that you are used to me first.”
Gerald was not one to gloat, but he studied in an all-boys school. He knew that he was bigger than other men. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Arabella. They could always enjoy each other in different ways.
“Get used to you?” Arabella asked with such innocent confusion that Gerald almost forgot the fiery woman she could be.
His gaze drifted over her again, from those full lips down to the generous curve of her bosom, barely concealed beneath the thin fabric of her nightgown. He was very slow and deliberate as he approached her. He didn’t want to scare her, but he wanted to make sure she knew that there was no escaping now.
“We will take this slow, Arabella,” he stood closer to her.
“Slow? But-”
He caught her chin.
“I said slow, Arabella.”
Gerald saw Arabella gulp at his command, and he smirked despite himself. He was expecting Arabella to rebel, throw back some witty retort, but she just looked at him with those eyes filled with expectation. What kind of gentleman would he be if he allowed his wife to stay unsatisfied on their first night together?
CHAPTER 16
Whispered Praise
