Page 44 of Denying the Duke (Lords and Ladies in Love 3)

By this time, the tears flowed freely down her cheeks. The pain from all the years of tamping down her feelings, hopes, and dreams bubbled to the surface, breaking free like a dam bursting forth.

He ran his fingers through his hair and reached for her. “Ah, honey, don’t cry.” When she moved back, he said, “No. I won’t continue. I just want to hold you.”

She allowed him to take her into his arms. Again, she felt safe. She buried her face against his chest, feeling as if she wanted to burrow into him. Hide from the world. From her new position in life. From her wildly conflicting feelings. He rubbed her back until her sobs turned to soft hiccups.

“Here, let me help you with your gown.” He pulled it up and refastened it, then wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. He placed his large hand at the back of her head and tucked her head against his strong, warm chest.

For the life of her she couldn’t understand why she kept denying him. Somewhere deep inside, she was afraid once they came together as husband and wife she would lose that little bit of control she’d gained in their relationship. Until she truly knew this new Alex, she had to be cautious. She dared not allow herself to be used and abused—not like her mother, because Alex would never hurt her—but the total lack of concern for her feelings, thoughts, and considerations.

After a few minutes, he eased back and stared at her. “Why don’t you lie down and try to sleep.”

She slid down and he pulled the covers up to her chin. She smiled to herself. Covering temptation, perhaps? He edged off the bed, then bent to kiss her on the forehead. “Sleep well, sweeting. Tomorrow will be a busy day with packing and getting ready to le

ave for London.”

He moved back and turned to leave the room.

“Alex?”

He looked back over his shoulder as he reached for the door. “Yes?”

“Thank you.”

He gave her a two-finger salute and left the room. Even though she had been the one to put a halt to his lovemaking and push him away, she had been left with a frustrated, inflamed body. Whatever these feelings were, she knew Alex could make it go away with his expert hands and mouth. Punching her pillow, she turned and tried to sleep.

She could hear him moving around his room, and she fought the urge to call him back. After tossing and turning for at least another hour, she finally fell into a fitful sleep.

Chapter Fourteen

Alex awoke fully dressed, with a roiling stomach and a headache fit to cripple a workhorse. After leaving Patience the night before, he’d finished off the bottle of brandy in his room. Even as an irresponsible youth, he’d never consumed that much liquor in one sitting. He didn’t even remember getting into bed. He groaned as he rolled onto his back, the room spinning. Breaking into a sweat, he took a deep breath and gripped the sheets until the room settled.

“Good morning, Your Grace.” Thomas’s cheerful voice added agony to Alex’s already abused body.

“Can you be a little quieter?” His voice sounded as though a colony of frogs had taken up residence during the night.

Thomas looked down at him. “No offense, Your Grace, but you look awful.”

“It’s nice to know my assumptions were correct.” Alex gingerly sat up, ran his fingers through his hair, and dropped his head into his hands. “I need one of those drinks you used to fix for my men back in France when they were in this condition.”

“Right away, Your Grace.”

Alex swore the man was laughing at him, but he didn’t have the energy to pick his head up and chastise him.

“Have a bath brought up, too. I have matters to deal with today since we’re leaving for London tomorrow.”

Even the sound of the door closing deepened the thud of tiny men pounding horseshoes in his head.

Thomas’s horrible drink, a bath, and a hearty breakfast had Alex almost feeling like himself. He looked up from his desk as Patience knocked lightly and entered his study. He stood and once again his cock gave rise to the beauty before him. She glowed with vitality. Curls had already escaped her topknot, resting against her smooth cheeks. Her morning dress displayed the tops of her lush breasts. Had he handled them last night? He needed to coax her into his bed soon or all his mornings would start like this one—miserable and hung over.

“Good morning.” Patience offered a warm smile as she took the seat in front of his desk. “I will be busy today planning for our return to London and would like some information.”

Alex leaned back in his chair, regarding her. He could stare at her all day and not get tired of it. Of course, he’d rather stare at her naked, but even dressed very prim and proper as she was now, he found it hard to look away. Every nuance as she spoke, every movement of her head as she asked him questions. The way she bit her lip while taking notes, how she tapped the writing instrument against her chin as she thought of another question.

“I think that is all I needed to know. Oh, one more thing. Will we be attending any social events? It has been more than six weeks since Cyrus passed.”

Six weeks since his life, as he’d known it, had been ripped out from underneath him. He shook his head. It certainly seemed so much longer in some ways, and only a few days in others. One thing that had come to his notice was the ever-present dreams of blood, guts, and war had diminished since he’d sold his colors. Nightmares, which had occurred every night, had dwindled down to only once in a while. Odd, that.

“We will certainly accept invitations to the more sedate affairs, dinner parties, garden parties, and such. In fact, I would like for you to arrange a dinner party. I will give you a list. I think the only events we need avoid are the larger balls.”