Page 45 of A Bride for the Cruel Duke

“After you,” she said, unable to keep herself from smiling and her mouth from salivating.

They started on the roast chicken, basted in a sweet glaze, paired with sweeter jam. It was succulent and moist and after having only a mouthful, she wanted more.

“Ah, ah,” he stopped her from going for a second bite. “Do not fill up on the first dish.”

“What’s the matter? Afraid I will win?” she shot back coyly.

“A part of me hopes you do,” he said simply.

She rolled her eyes at that but could not keep herself from smiling.

They moved down the table together, going from one plate to the next. Duck was the second option which they sampled, followed then by foie gras. After that, it was steak, and then brisket, followed by roasted lamb which he told her had been on the spit all day.

Her stomach began to groan but the food was simply too good to stop.

They ate vegetables in between the meats too, of course, most baked and sauteed, and all cooked to absolute perfection.

“What is the matter?” she chided as they took a spoonful each of baked carrot and brussels sprouts, sizzling in gravy. “Do not tell me, full already?”

“I could go on all night.”

They did not talk as much as she thought they might, but there was no need. Most of their conversation pertained to the food available, and they stood side by side as they ate. She did most of the talking, making sure to compliment and even laugh at those times when she missed her mouth or made a mess of herself.

“Careful...” Anthony stepped into her quickly and she gasped, leaning back, but unwilling to back up because she did not want him to have the upper hand. That’s what this was all about, after all. “You missed your mouth.”

“Oh...” She could feel some grease on her chin and moved to wipe it.

“No.” He snatched her hand and held it by her side. “Allow me...”

He stood over her. His large frame seeming to wrap around her like a shadow from which she could not run. One hand holding hers, the other moved up slowly and traced his thumb across her lips. Down her chin next, wiping up the grease, and then back to her lips. Despite herself, knowing it was the wrong thing to do, she opened her mouth, and his thumb ran itself over her tongue, which she licked clean.

A moan escaped her. Her eyes closed. Her lips wrapped around his thumb, and she sucked... her hand, which he held, squeezing his... his chest rising and falling... his breath across her face... she sucked and licked and cleaned his thumb until there was nothing left...

“Are you quite done?” he asked after some time.

Her eyes snapped open and she realized what she was doing. “Oh. I...” She turned away, embarrassed, her heart racing. “I did not realize how hungry I am.”

“Famished, by the looks of it.”

They continued down the table and she became more and more aware of the duke beside her. She could not help herself from glancing at him, watching his lips wrap around pieces of meat, teeth tearing, tongue working, the muscles in his jaw grinding.

Is this his plan? To seduce me with food so all I can think about is that mouth of his and what it might do? Truthfully, it’s not the worst plan...

Things came to a head when they reached the pork chops. Caroline had never told anyone this, but she hated pork. And ham. And any meat from pigs. She did not know why, but the taste always made her feel sick to her stomach. Annoyingly, growing up as she had done, she had never had the courage to tell her mother, assuming she would not care. She had been forced to eat it at least once a week and simply deal with the tase.

“Your turn,” Anthony said as he took a bite of a pork chop that looked succulent, but she knew would taste foul.

“Right...” She eyed the pork chop, used her fork to stab at it, brought it to her lips... “I am...” Her stomach began to turn. Her brow began to sweat. She was quite full, but she could still eat more. “This looks so... so tasty...” She grimaced as she went to eat it, opening her mouth, only to find that she could not go through with it. “Alas, I am afraid that I am feeling quite full.”

Anthony frowned. “You are?”

“Sadly, I am.”

“Caroline...” He clicked his tongue. “You disappoint me.”

“Not the first time, I am sure.” She tittered quietly and put the pork chop down, then pushed it away, eyeing it with a curled lip because she could not help herself.

She then caught Anthony watching her. His brow was furrowed, and he looked between her and the pork chop, his mind at work. “I guess that makes me the winner,” he said finally.

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