He felt her hand on his nape, stroking up into his hair. Will arched back into her touch and finally looked at her face. When her eyes fluttered open, it felt like taking a hard punch to the chest. Her lips, the deep flush of a summer rose, parted and she pulled him down for another hungry kiss.
He began to thrust harder, his movements growing faster and more careless as his release began to build. Finally he couldn’t take any more of this strange, sensuous torture. Will pulled out from her welcoming heat and grabbed his smallclothes, as he wouldnotspend on her sheets.
As a powerful release washed over him, he collapsed beside her. He then immediately pulled Phoebe into his arms. Just as he had suspected back in Maude’s closet, her back melded perfectly to his front. But now he could allow himself to enjoy the sensation—at least for a little while. Phoebe let out a contented little sigh as shenestled deeper against his body. Will planted a kiss on the top of her head and together they lay in the near darkness, their heavy breaths filling the room. But instead of the relief that usually followed such activities, Will was left with a gnawing ache.
He wanted more.
He wanted the impossible.
And he was well and truly doomed.
Will was usually up at dawn, his mind already spinning with the tasks that lay before him. But today… today he did not want to wake up. He kept his eyes firmly shut against the midmorning sunshine streaming through the window and enjoyed the sensory pleasures of Phoebe’s bed, which smelled of clean linen, warm skin, and love-making. He knew he was supposed to feel like a blackguard for taking her last night, but she had been so absolutely certain about what she had wanted. Who was he to question her?
No, he would not feel any regret. She had reached for him again in the early hours of the morning. Though they had both been in a sleepy haze, they followed the lead of their bodies, already primed for each other. Afterward he had fallen back asleep with his face buried in her hair and their heavy limbs tangled together. It was heaven. Will had never experienced the intoxicating combination of enthusiasm mixed with surprising moments of tenderness. He had felt more himself in bed with her, naked and wanting, than he had in many years. Will couldn’t stop the smile pulling at his lips as his cock began to stiffen yet again. He was already going to hell. Why not make it worth it?
But as he reached an arm back to caress Phoebe’s sleeping body,he found nothing but empty space. Will blinked and looked over. A piece of paper lay where Phoebe’s head should have been. He sat up and grabbed the sheet. As his eyes scanned the irritatingly short note, his heart sank lower with each word.
I went to the school early to plan for the bazaar. Didn’t want to wake you.
There were no sweet words, no mention of the earth-shattering night of mutual pleasure they had shared. Only a sterile explanation of where she had gone and not when she would return, as she expected him to leave. Christ, she hadn’t even signed hername. But that was only sensible, given the risk she had taken with him. Even still, the tips of Will’s ears began to burn. He felt like her embarrassing secret.
I find the idea that I would be any man’s mistress appalling—let alone a duke’s.
Right. He was an idiot. And of coursehewould want the only woman in England who saw his title as a drawback.
Will grimaced. Phoebe had said nothing about her desire going beyond the physical and they had both agreed it would be a one-off. It would be silly to feel used and yet…
What use would I have for a husband?
He threw back the covers and stood.Enough.Perhaps it had been a blessing to have awoken here alone. Then he wouldn’t have had to face her dismissal whilst being naked. It was well past time for him to get the hell out of here. But first he needed to find his trousers.
After he had slunk out of her flat like a common burglar, Will returned to Mayfair and his fancy life of extreme privilege that held no interest for Phoebe Atkinson. He tried to put her out of his mind by spending the next few days occupied by the tedious workof running a dukedom. And yet, through it all, he could not stop picturing Phoebe at his shoulder like an avenging angel, making little remarks and pushing him to do more, more,more.
It was damned irritating—mostly because she was right.
So he gave raises to his steward and housekeeper at the estate in Derbyshire, doubled his annual contribution to a foundling home in Whitechapel, and approved a long overdue scheme to rebuild the roofs of some of his tenants’ houses. With every stroke of his pen, Will could picture the old duke on his other shoulder, glowering in disapproval. He had believed in pushing every man, beast, and building in the duchy to the absolute limit, but he was dead. And despite his frequent protestations that Will had neither the brains nor the blood to be the duke, here he was, in the duke’s house with the duke’s title and all the entrenched power and privilege that came with it. So Will would do whatever he damn well wanted with his feeble mind and watered down blue blood. Or rather, whatever this imaginary Phoebe of his would like.
She also urged him to send a note to Lord Tavistock, asking him to lunch at his earliest convenience. Though he was a member of the opposition, they had been together at Oxford and Will liked him immensely. Whereas Will had all but given up his radical ideals when he became the duke, Tavistock had the advantage of being raised from birth to inherit a viscounty, and thus hadn’t felt obligated to prove his suitability to anyone. That meant he had no qualms about embracing progress and publicly chastising his more narrow-minded peers every chance he got. It had earned him the moniker of “Tattling Tavistock” in some of the more ribald papers, but the viscount took it all in stride, for he believed in what he was doing down to the bone.
In short, Fairbanks found him absolutely appalling. But thatonly made Will more determined to seek him out. He wanted Tavistock’s opinion on forming a bill that could actually gain support and put an end to the absolute drivel Fairbanks was spouting. Despite all he had learned at Fleur, Will couldn’t entirely rid himself of the guilt he felt for going behind his mentor’s back. But he also knew better than most that once the earl set his mind to something, he did not deviate for anyone. All the more reason to join forces with Tavistock.
In the middle of all this came an invitation from Alex, asking him to join the family for dinner on Friday. They hadn’t seen each other since the meeting about the bazaar and had some catching up to do. Will asked the footman to wait, as he immediately responded with his acceptance, just as he would have even if he hadn’t slept with Phoebe. But as the young man left the room with Will’s response, a nagging sense of doubt began to prickle.
It could be horribly awkward if Phoebe was there. What if she assumed he came for her? He would look pathetic. But did he care? Will wasn’t even sure anymore. Besides, her attendance seemed unlikely, given the current state of her relationship with Alex. And yet, despite the possibility of an awfully uncomfortable evening, Will couldn’t help hoping shewouldbe there.
He pressed his forehead to the surface of his desk and closed his eyes. He wasn’t used to feeling so out of sorts. Maybe he was coming down with something.
Yes, a case of lovesickness.
He let out a groan at the thought. That was the last thing he needed.
“Your Grace?”
He had entirely forgotten his secretary was still in the room.
Will lifted his head and cleared his throat, as if nothing bizarrehad just occurred. Mr. Flynn didn’t look convinced. “Have you heard from Tavistock yet?”
The man blinked. “No, the note only went out an hour ago.”
