Page 114 of A Duke in the Rough

He kissed the tip of her nose. “I like this side of you.” Those luscious lips curved in his lopsided smile. “So fierce. Like a tigress, ready to take on the most fearsome of enemies.”

She laughed. “My father?”

“Yes, him. But also theton. The world.”

“For you, I would.”

Closing his eyes, he grew serious. “I thought I knew what love was, but I was wrong.”

“You were?” Her words came out like wispy tendrils of wonder.

His grin returned. “Um-hmm. I was a boy, heartsick over a lovely girl. But now”—his eyes grew hooded—“now, I see love is so much more. It’s takingandgiving. Of being the best you can be for the one you love and helping them be the best they can be. It’s not just accepting, it’s celebrating who the other person is.”

“Oh, Drake. I take it back.”

His warm brown eyes widened. “What? Not your promise to marry me?”

She shook her head. “Youarea poet.”

He scooped her up, and she squealed. “I’m a man in love who is about to make love to the woman of my dreams. There is no better inspiration.”

As he carried her toward the big bed, the linens around his waist slipped loose, and his foot tangled in the folds, propelling him forward.

Unsure how in the world Drake performed the maneuver, Honoria found herself lying on top of him in the middle of the floor—several feet from the bed.

With a sigh, he banged his head against the floor and squeezed his eyes shut. His mouth tightened in a straight line. In a word, he appeared mortified.

“So much for my attempt at gallantry. I’m a bumbling dolt.”

She giggled and gave him a peck on the lips. “No. You are my hero. All you need now is a handful of wet forget-me-nots.”

“Lord, you remember that, do you? The difference being, then I could blame Buttercup, whereas now”—he motioned around him—“I have nothing to blame but my own clumsiness.”

“Not true. The sheets are the culprit. Perhaps you should remove them.”

“I don’t have anything on underneath. I’d hoped to spare you the shock until—” His cheeks darkened.

“Oh.” Heat flooded her own cheeks. My, but they were a pair. “Might I suggest you forgo trying to carry me and we walk to the bed?” She eased off him as gracefully as she was able.

Knock. Knock, knock.

Honoria froze at the sound, her gaze darting toward Drake.

“Quick,in the bed. Get under the covers,” Drake said, his heart pounding harder than the knock at the door.

She pointed to the sheets wrapped around his body. “You have them on you.”

“Oh, right. Um, hide behind the curtains. Whoever it is, I’ll send them away quickly.”

Once Honoria had concealed herself, Drake marched toward the door, ready to give whomever it was a firm dressing down. He yanked open the door.

Simon!

Drake glowered at hisfriend. “What the devil do you want?” he asked through gritted teeth. “It’s the middle of the night. Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“I heard a noise. A rather large thump. You would think these walls would be sturdier. As any good friend would, I came to see if everything was—” His gaze jerked toward the window, and his eyebrows popped high on his forehead. “Ah, never mind.”

Drake spun around, surveying Honoria’s hiding place and wondering what gave her away. It wasn’t the curtain moving ever so gently. The open window could explain that. No, the toes poking from underneath the fluttering curtains had betrayed them.

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