Page 67 of A Game with the Rakish Duke
Catherine let out a bark of laughter. “I am flattered, Sir.”
He laughed with her for a moment then sobered, gazing at her intently. “I wanted to keep my promise to my father, Catherine,” he said in a low voice. “It was very important to me. The last link I had to him.” He hesitated. “But that was not the only reason, of course. My mother’s abandonment scarred me. I loved her dearly… and she just left me, as if I were a toy she had grown weary of playing with.”
Catherine made a small, distressed sound in the back of her throat, reaching over and taking his hand. She felt choked with sorrow and pity for him. What a truly awful thing to live with.
“I never wanted to experience that pain again,” Thomas continued, looking at her intently. “I never wanted to love someone so much that it would ruin me if they betrayed or left me, you see.”
Catherine bit her lip. He looked so lost, so bewildered, that her heart could barely stand it. She reached out, cupping his face in her hands, gazing into his eyes before she kissed him. A sweet, lingering kiss.
She pulled away, watching him carefully. “I am not going anywhere, Thomas,” she vowed, her voice trembling with emotion. “You beat me fair and square at that game in the gambling hell… and now, I am afraid you are stuck with me.”
His eyes lit up. “Truly?”
“Truly,” she breathed. “Just try to get rid of me.”
He laughed, his eyes raking over her face as if seeking something. “You won that game, Catherine,” he said softly. “You are the one who won.”
They gazed at each other. The air was thick with emotion.
“You are not the only one who has been trying to run away from life, you know,” she admitted, her heart flipping. “I swore that I would never love a man because of the way my father treated my mother. He broke her with his constant infidelity.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “I swore that I would never live my mother’s life, my heart breaking anew every time the one I loved betrayed me.”
There was a tense silence. Slowly, he reached out, brushing a finger against her mouth, staring at her.
“What a pair we are,” he murmured, grimacing. “Both of us stuck in the past because of the actions of people we loved.” He shook his head ruefully. “I am not like your father, Catherine. I swear it to you.”
She bit her lip, gazing at him, wanting to believe him so badly that it hurt. They had already partially crossed the bridge separating them by surrendering to each other last night—by acknowledging the passion and connection between them. Could they take the final step by leaving the past behind, once and for all, and just living their lives?
Her heart fluttered with trepidation. She could admit now how much she yearned for it, to simply leave it all behind and start anew. To fully explore the connection between them without always looking over her shoulder, waiting for the axe to fall.
Could she do it? Could he? Could they really shake off the shackles of their past and walk into the future together?
“We are not our parents,” Thomas continued in a soft voice. “It has taken me a long time to understand that. We are not destined to repeat their mistakes. I will not let it happen.”
“Is it possible?” she whispered, her heart lurching.
“We can only try,” he whispered back, taking her hands and gazing at her intently. “I am willing to try if you are.”
“Yes,” she said in a faint voice. “I am willing to try if you are, too.”
He pulled her into his arms, kissing the top of her head. Catherine laughed softly, basking in the embrace. They kissed and nuzzled each other, rubbing noses and laughing together.
Already, Catherine felt the difference. The great passion was still there, simmering beneath the surface, just waiting to ignite again, but alongside it was something else. A tenderness had burgeoned between them, bright and new, as soft as the downy feathers of a fledgling.
The door opened, and Jean, her maid, walked in, carrying a freshly laundered gown in her arms. When she saw them in the bed, she stopped, her face shocked, looking like she was rooted to the spot.
“Oh, I am so sorry, Your Graces,” she cried, turning brick red as she bobbed a quick, clumsy curtsey. “I did not realize…”
“It is quite all right, Jean.” Catherine laughed, blushing. “But if you could wait outside the room for a moment, that would be good.”
The maid looked flustered, nodding and retreating hastily, closing the door firmly behind her.
“I guess it is time to get up,” Thomas sighed. He looked at Catherine. “I will leave you to begin your toilette.” His gaze lingered on her. “I will see you at the breakfast table.”
“Yes,” Catherine said, her blush deepening. “You will.”
He lingered a moment longer before grabbing her and kissing her until she was breathless. She could feel his arousal pressing insistently against her leg. He groaned, as if in agony, before leaping out of the bed and walking to the door connecting their chambers. She couldn’t keep her eyes off him.
He looked back at her. “Until then,” he whispered.
