Page 28 of The Untamed Duke
"An honorable man would allow me to bathe in solitude,” Grace snapped.
For a heartbeat, Nicholas faltered. Behind dark sable, impossibly long lashes, she caught something wistful flit in his beautiful eyes. The strangeness of his unconcealed expression startled her.
My God. Have I wounded him?
Then, a slow, cruel smile drifted across his features, the twin dimples in his cheeks hypnotically charming. "If you expect honor, you'll find yourself vastly disappointed, little bee. However, it does seem, should you fail in upholding this bargain you insisted upon, you are the one without honor. I merely adhere to the terms you set."
Wrapping the towel around her body, he scooped her up. Crushed against the hard planes of his chest, his heat searing her, Grace felt something she had not expected. The frozen wasteland of his soul.
What had they done to him? Oh, how they'd hurt him.
Rejected him.
Betrayed him.
Destroyed him.
For a crazy, heart-rending moment, she felt like weeping. She wanted to pull the confused, rigid little boy she sensed lurking inside this soulless man into the cocoon of her arms. Comfort him until tears and pain were long forgotten. Heal him of wrongs inflicted long ago. She did not know his childhood, nor his years as a young man, but instinctively, she knew his life had been a painful one. Her fingers clenched into fists to keep from drawing his head down on her breast and soothing him, to stop herself from stroking his dark gold tousled mane as if he were some misunderstood, injured beast.
"You left me no choice. I had to make the bargain," Grace managed, swallowing against the strange urges within her.
"You leave me no option as well."
Nicholas stalked from the room, carrying her as though she were a small sack of treasures illicitly plundered. Crossing through the passage between two chambers, he closed the connecting door with a hard shove of his foot.
Grace had a quick impression of heavy mahogany and rich gold damask bedclothes and draperies. Everything was black, gold and the darkest of emerald greens. She was within a wolf’s lair, about to become his meal.
Nicholas dumped her on the massive four-poster bed. There she sat in stunned silence while he removed his coat. Making sense of this turn of events was difficult. How he held and kissed her with such warmth, and yet such coldness at the same time mystified her.
"You will honor our bargain. Otherwise, I will strip from you all you hold dear. Not because I dislike you or hold a vendetta, but simply because I am a heartless bastard and find it an amusing pastime. And it gives me pleasure to possess someone my old friend Ravenswood holds dear." His cold smile could not dent the heated desire flaring in his eyes. "You see, you intrigue me, Grace. Despite myself, I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you. You willingly placed your fate in my hands, and now, I will have you. This is probably the moment I say you should have paid heed to the warning signs I gave. Did you expect to make the Devil’s own deal, then waltz away unscathed?”
Grace scrambled to the other side of the bed, clutching the towel as though it were a magical shield capable of deflecting his passions.
The rumors were true. He was the Winter Duke. A ferocious, icily controlled, injured wolf mauling anyone or anything in his path. The gentleness or humanity she glimpsed from time to time just beneath the surface was either gold waiting to be discovered or simply flashes of sunlight on water. Whatever he allowed her to see in fleeting moments may not even be real. Could she be horribly mistaken in assessing his tortured soul? Would he be so cruel? Taking everything from her with no remorse? Was his intention truly to hurt her cousin? She wasn't sure, but right now one thing was certain. She should have thought twice— her attraction to him blinded her to the fact that he probably did not care. For her or anyone else, for that matter.
"I'm ready to collect my first night." His voice was unshakeable. "It cannot be altered.”
Grace’s throat felt raw, tight, and scratchy. She wanted to scream. Call him every foul curse word she knew.
She wanted to go home.
"I was naive... and foolish! I regret making the bargain!"
Nicholas’s eyes lit up as he tossed his coat aside, unconcerned when it landed on the floor. "I don't." He moved around the bed as she backed away until there was nowhere Grace could go. She was pinned, the wall on one side, the headboard at her back, with Nicholas surrounding her. “I don't regret it all." Placing a firm hand beneath her chin, he exerted pressure, tilting her face up. "By the end of tonight, you won't either."
"You agreed simply because of my connection with Ravenswood. Admit that at least." Grace wished her voice didn't tremble. But it did, even as she met his eyes with a level of bravery she never realized she possessed.
He smiled as if he pitied her. "This may be the only opportunity I have of burying myself between those lovely legs of yours. Ravenswood has nothing to do with what yougaveme. Now, I’ll taste every inch of you, and you will return the favor. I’ll possess you in ways you don't even realize yet. You insisted on this deal. You and I struck a bargain making you my whore, and you swore to honor it."
Shock rendered Grace speechless. Her brain stumbled when comprehending the horror, the awful truth of his words. The stupidity of her actions battered into her consciousness. The enormity of the bargain...what she gave away...
His whore.
She sucked in a terrified breath. It was all true. Her innocence was volunteered in this effort of saving her home. A moan of despair ripped from her lungs. She sagged against the grip he held on her chin and elbow. He tricked her. And she was stupid. Falling into the neat trap he set. Letting her think he was sweet, but intense. Honorable, yet misunderstood. Interesting, and only a tiny bit demanding.
It was a slow wind at first, building with blistering ferocity into a hurricane of disgust, whipping and swirling within her, an instant tempest obliterating all other emotions.
Richeforte’s whore...
