Page 145 of The Dueling Duchess

“You can rely on that.”

Once he’d undressed, locked the door, and snuffed the last candles, he slid in between the cool sheets and stretched out on his back, all too aware of the woman beside him as he stared into the darkness.

Guy was as hard as a poker and he wanted Cecile worse than he’d ever wanted anyone in his life.

Still, he’d rather lie beside her in a state of heightened—and frustrating—arousal than make love with any other woman.

Yes, he was truly smitten.

And he’d never been happier.

* * *

Cecile couldn’t believe that she’d finally got the Darling into her bed, and then she’d fallen asleep.

But she was awake now—more than just awake.

She’d been having a dream about Curtis of all people. What Guy had told her had both shocked her and yet, strangely, not really surprised her. Oh, how Curtis had stolen from her had surprised her, but not that he had.

Curtis was the sort of man who got through life on his charm and appearance. He was an extremely handsome man—although nowhere near as attractive as Guy. And when she said attractive, she meant Guy’s entire person, not just his face and body, but the man inside.

Guy had been a shameless rake for years, but to the people he loved, he was true blue, the sort of man who’d rescue a grimy urchin and her dog. And not once had he complained about losing his status, home, and security to his cousin.

And Cecile loved him.

It had been hard to admit that, even to herself, because the last time she’d loved somebody she’d been so very, very wrong in her choice. But what was the alternative to admitting how she felt about Guy? Denying her feelings because she was afraid of being wrong? Living the rest of her life alone because she was too scared to take a chance?

She loved having Guy working at the Fayre. And she loved living with him.

The past was the past. It was the future that concerned her now—hers, Guy’s, and Cat’s.

Cecile turned toward his big warm body and molded herself along his side, shamelessly groaning at the exquisite feel of six feet of hot, hard male.

She lightly brought her knee over his thighs and then skimmed his pelvis, gently stroking the hardest part of him.

He woke with a low, sleepy chuckle. “I’d better not wake up if this is a dream.”

“This is no dream,” she whispered.

He made a growling sound and slid a hand around her knee, pulling her leg tighter against his scalding hot length.

“You feel like heaven, Cecile.” His hips pulsed, stroking the sensitive skin of her inner thigh and leaving streaks of moisture. “I’ve been hard for you for so long.”

Cecile shuddered at the raw desire in his voice and slid her leg to his other side, bringing herself astride him.

“Ooooh, my favorite,” he said, his voice a purr.

“You like me on top because you’re lazy.”

“For your information, I like you on top because I can use both my hands and I can see almost all of you. And I’m lazy.”

Cecile laughed.

Guy caressed his hot palms from her knees, up her thighs, one dipping low and pushing into her private curls while the other cupped a breast, supporting its weight while he tweaked and teased her beaded nipple, each pinch sending jagged bolts of pleasure to her sex.

Cecile did some growling herself when he parted her lower lips and teased her engorged bud.

“So wet for me,” he praised, and then pushed a finger inside her, lazily pumping her while tormenting first one nipple and then the other.