Page 25 of Wedded to the Forbidden Duke
After that, both he and Cecilia found they could do nothing but sit in tense silence as Mr. Ainsworth happily bowed once again and bustled out of the room.
With Mr. Ainsworth gone from the room, Cecilia felt even more acutely aware of the energy that hung thickly between her and Ian. She picked up her wineglass, in order to calm her nerves, before realizing that the wine was likely not helping her state of mind. Indeed, the wine she had already consumed had left her head tingling pleasantly and softened her so that she could hardly stop her gaze from sliding back over to Ian.
She wanted him. Sitting here, alone in a room with him, it was impossible to pretend otherwise, even to herself.
She wanted him to kiss her again. She wanted for him to take her in his arms, and trace a path along her neck, down to where the neckline of her dress began.
She wanted him to rid her of her clothes, and rid himself of his, and teach her exactly what it was that he had learned in all of his years raking his way across the country and the continent.
She wanted him to make her his wife, in deed as well as in word.
They stared at each other for a long, long time.
Finally, Cecilia cleared her throat.
“Well,” she said. “Mr. Ainsworth was correct. It is quite late. I should be off to bed, as well.”
Regardless of what she wanted—regardless of the desires that the wine had only served to heighten—it would be a terrible idea to lie with her husband, she knew.
Though the wine, and the look he was giving her, was making it difficult to remember exactly what the reasons where why it would be such a terrible idea…
No!She mustn’t.
With a tremendous amount of effort and self-restraint, Cecilia pushed away from the table, smoothing down her dress, and headed to leave.
As she reached the doorway, Ian spoke. “You seemed to have some difficulties with your wine, earlier,” he drawled. “An overindulgence?”
Cecilia paused.
I could still leave,she thought. If she simply ignored his question, and left, she would be in her room in minutes, safely alone and asleep and no longer at the mercy of these intoxicating, impossible feelings.
But when had she ever been able to resist a bit of banter with the Duke of Harwick?
She turned around—slightly more clumsily than she would have sober, she had to admit—and met his gaze, trying not to let on to the way looking at him made her feel as though she were melting from the inside out.
“A laugh,” she said frostily. “I was most amused by your solicitor’s last comment.”
Ian stood up immediately, eyes narrowed. “You may be the lady of the house,” he said, his voice deadly serious, “but I will not tolerate any slander of Mr. Ainsworth’s name. He is a decent man, he is practically family?—”
“I am not mocking him!” Cecilia said incredulously. “Hehas been nothing but lovely.” Ian seemed to calm immediately at the reassurance, further emphasizing to Cecilia how Mr. Ainsworthwas perhaps the closest thing he had to family. She continued, “I merely found it amusing. His suggestion that you and I would share a room. The very idea is preposterous.”
That stopped him. “Is that so?” he asked. His tone had changed. None of the earlier rage was present, but his voice was still low. Focused. There was an intensity there that further stoked the flames making their way to her core.
She tried to keep her reaction from her face, keeping her voice cool. “I should think after your comments in the carriage that you would agree. As you yourself said, this is a marriage of convenience,” she reminded him icily.
“Yes,” he said. “It is still, however, a marriage. There is nothing laughable about the idea of a husband and wife sharing a bed.”
She scoffed, even as her mind filled with images of their bodies intertwined. “As if I would ever want to share a bed with you,” she bit out.
He chuckled, taking a few steps towards her. Though her pulse rose at the movement, she did not—could not—bring herself to walk away. “You would enjoy it, certainly.”
Cecilia fought to keep her breathing steady. If it was anything close to the feeling she felt when they were engaged in verbal sparring, she had no trouble believing she would enjoy it. “Do not make me laugh, my lord,” she said. Her voice dropped lower. “The mere fact of your having been familiar with so many ladies is not enough to convince me of that.”
His eyebrow raised. “But youhavethought of me with other ladies,” he said.
Cecilia felt her entire body heat, in a flush that no doubt showed on her cheeks. “I—” She stopped.
Ian continued to walk towards her. His eyes dragged up and down across her figure. Rather than feeling embarrassed she luxuriated in it, in the feeling of having his entire attention.
