Page 50 of Wedded to the Beastly Duke
Then again, maybe she hoped he could. Even though he had been home for a few days, hestillhadn’t visited to take advantage of his conjugal rights. If she didn’t see the way his eyes flicked to her mouth, the way she laid a hand on his chest and felt his pounding heart, she might have thought he didn’t want her.
Before her stood her very own ice king, and she would be the one to finally crack him and melt that frosty exterior.
“Do you think I look well?” she asked, breaking away and twirling. Her silk dress hugged her figure, as she knew well, and she had forgone petticoats and a shift so it would better display her curves.
If he was going to insist on keeping his distance from her, she would make it torture for him.
“Emmeline,” he murmured. “You are practically undressed.”
“Am I to take from that that you like it?”
“I do.” He caught her hand and tugged her back to face him. “But so will other gentlemen.”
“So? I am married to you, as you have made abundantly clear.” She arched an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t have thought you have anything to worry about.”
His jaw tightened, and a primal wave of satisfaction washed over her.
“Is this my punishment for leaving you?” he demanded as she made her way to the carriage, where Rickard was already waiting.
“I don’t know, Adam,” she tossed over her shoulder, added an extra sway to her hips. “Do you feel as though you are being punished?”
* * *
Adam could not remember being so futilely, hopelessly aroused. That had no doubt been Emmeline’s intention from the moment she came downstairs, but she likely had not known the full extent of the effect she had on him. The way he relentlessly wanted her.
Even watching her descend the stairs toward him had been torture. He’d wanted nothing more than to take her back to her bedchamber and peel that dress off her.
More importantly, he didn’t want other gentlemen to be seeing her and thinking the same lewd thoughts he was having. She was his. The urge to claim her was primal, the force of it almost scaring him. Never before had he felt something so urgently, so desperately, and he shrugged off his coat in the carriage, resting it over his lap as she took her place beside him and her leg brushed against his.
If Rickard hadn’t been sitting opposite them, watching them both with a slightly amused air, he probably would have lost control and given in to desire.
As it was, the journey was torture. Every press of her knee sent another wave of desire through him, and he knew he would never be able to escape this. She was his wife; this want would follow him through their life together. Having a taste of her had only made it worse.
Finally, he understood why some men lost their minds over their wives, why they sacrificed their previous joys to stay at home and worship the women they had married. He had not thought, not for an instant, that he would be one of those men.
But if she would press those soft, luscious lips against his, if she would permit him to touch her rich curves, if only she would allow him to coax those soft moans out of her mouth, he thought he would never want to leave the bedchamber.
When finally they arrived, he climbed out of the carriage stiffly, and Emmeline sent him a coquettish, flirtatious glance that made him ache with need.
Just one kiss. He would sell his soul to kiss her.
Rickard came to her other side and opened his mouth, and before Adam knew what he was doing, he was uttering words he never thought he would say.
“Emmeline,” he said, his voice gruff. Those beautiful eyes turned to his. “Dance with me?”
Her smile was wide and genuine. “I thought you would never ask.”
The ballroom was large and painted lavishly with gold, long red curtains blocking out the night, and busts at regular intervals along the wall. A large painting of Lady Rochester took pride of place above the fireplace, and Adam felt like a butterfly pinned to a board for all to see.
Emmeline’s hand was tucked in his arm, however, and it was plain to see she was delighting in being, once again, in Society.
“How different it is as a married lady,” she said with a sigh.
“It is?” he asked, wondering if she would object if he pulled her behind a particularly verdant potted plant.
“Yes. People look at me differently now that I am a duchess. And now I have my husband on my arm.” She gave him a teasing glance. “Would a smile really be too much of a strain?”
“I’m here, Emmeline. Let’s not ask for too much.”
