Page 21 of Stolen and Seduced By the Duke

A fierce surge of desire moved through him, startling in its intensity. He had spent the past year indulging every appetite that might distract him from grief, yet this was different. Margaret's audacity had awakened something far more dangerous because she was not merely available; she was defiant, spirited, and entirely capable of walking away from him.

"That does not count," he said, his voice lower than before. "It was merely a peck."

Margaret's eyes widened. "It was precisely what I intended."

"No," Pierce replied, stepping closer. "It was what you thought a scandalous kiss should be."

"And you know better?" she asked.

"I do, of course I do," his voice was thick with lust.

Before she could reply, he caught her gently by the waist and drew her towards him. His mouth met hers with a certainty that left no room for another clever retort. The kiss was deeper than the one she had given him, passionate without being careless, and Pierce felt the last of his restraint begin to fracture beneath the simple sensation of holding her close.

His trousers tightened across his thighs as his manhood stirred to life.

Margaret's hands settled against his chest, and the warmth of her palms seemed to travel straight through his coat.

Pierce's thoughts narrowed until there was nothing but her, the softness of her mouth, the quiet sound of her breath, the way she seemed to forget her argument in favour of simply remaining where she was.

He had intended to teach her a lesson, to demonstrate precisely what she had failed to understand, but he quickly realized that he was the one in danger of forgetting the boundaries he had established.

I will take her right now. She is to be mine anyway.

When a soft sound escaped her, Pierce felt desire surge through him again. He tightened his hold for one dangerous instant before reason finally prevailed.

If I continue, I know I will want more than a kiss, and I refuse to allow myself to lose control in her father's library.

He drew back abruptly, breathing harder than he cared to admit.

Margaret looked up at him, equally breathless, her cheeks flushed.

"There will be no more lessons," she declared, though her voice lacked some of its usual certainty. "No more kisses. I require no instruction."

Pierce almost smiled. "As you wish."

"This is a practical arrangement," she continued, attempting to regain her composure. "And it will mean nothing if you cannot make Harrowby abandon his claim."

Pierce's expression became cold and assured again. "That," he said, "I can do."

Margaret watched him carefully.

"And once it is settled," Pierce continued, "you will be my duchess."

She lifted her chin. "My duchess?"

"My wife," he corrected, his gaze holding hers. "And you should remember something, Margaret. I make the rules at Ravenfield."

Her eyes flashed. "You have a great deal of confidence for a man who has just been told there will be no more lessons."

A faint smile returned to his mouth. "You will learn."

With that, Pierce turned and walked from the library before he could be tempted to remain.

The carriage was waiting outside, and he climbed inside, shutting the door firmly behind him. As the horses began to move through the London streets, he leaned back against the seat and stared through the window without truly seeing anything. His mind remained fixed upon Margaret.

He had intended to find a mother for Hugh. He had intended to make a practical arrangement. He had intended to avoid love, desire, and every complication that accompanied them.

Yet now he could still feel the warmth of her against him, still remember the startled expression in her eyes when he kissed her, and still hear the breath she had drawn against his mouth.