Page 63 of His Forbidden Duchess
Eloise also took a long, lingering look at his sinewy arms, the downy hair that glistened with remaining water droplets on his well-muscled chest and the enticing line of fur that ran from his taut belly to a place hidden by his breeches
After all, he is my husband.
Eloise licked her lips. His breeches hung deliciously low on his hips. Her eyes were riveted on his rippling lower stomach muscles where they disappeared behind the flimsy fabric.
It felt to her as though hours had passed before he spoke, yet barely ten seconds had elapsed. Whatever had caused him to pause—surprise, desire, hope—was now gone, and he let the towel dangle from his hand.
“What can I do for you, Eloise? Is there something you need?” His voice was rough and low and colored with longing and denial.
What do I want…
You know what I want.
“I… er…” She cleared her throat. “Mrs. Thorpe told me that you had requested my immediate presence in your chambers. I…” She could not drag her gaze away from his chest. “I am sorry. I did not realize you were not ready for me.”
She cleared her throat again, and as she did, he said, “Mrs. Thorpe told you that?”
Eloise nodded. “And that I was to come immediately.” She tilted her head and openly ogled him. “Tell me, are you often in a state of undress when you conduct business?”
His gaze lingered upon her a few moments more as his detached expression became a smirk.
“Of course, she did,” he said with a chuckle. “And yes, of course, I do, quite often in fact.”
He stepped more closely to her, and she could feel the warmth radiating from his body. She remained perfectly still, not backing down or moving away. Not leaning forward to run her lips across his bare chest as her body screamed for her to do.
He bent over, his chest brushing lightly against her, and retrieved his shirt from the chair beside her. He smiled as he straightened up, his head tilted to one side.
“Do you think this was yet another one of the staff’s clever schemes?”
She blinked, feigning. “I… don’t know what you mean.”
She did know, though. This was not the first time the staff had been so conniving, and it seemed to be getting increasingly inappropriate. Had she not been curious about Mrs. Thorpe’s odd request in the first place?
“Oh, I think you do,” he replied, his amused gaze now tracing her face as his breath came in raspy sighs.
“I do?”
“After dinner last night, I am sure they were all wondering how I would react to you walking into my room while I was half naked. I can almost hear them snickering.”
Eloise’s lips twitched into a smile. Yes of course she knew, and in many ways, she was grateful to them for their devious little interventions.
“I am certain of it,” she laughed lightly. “Maybe they thought you would be unable to control yourself.”
“And what if I cannot?” he asked, his eyes deepening and his jaw tightening.
Eloise’s breath became ragged, her gown straining against her breasts as her chest rose. Was this the moment when he would, finally, lose control? When he would take her as he had implied?
She swallowed, not pulling her eyes from the hard muscles that rippled on his chest.
“What if you cannot?” she repeated breathlessly, her words barely more than a whisper.
The narrow space between them crackled with their unmet desires. Eloise longed to close the distance and see where it would take them. She felt the increasing moistness between her thighs and silently begged him to release her from the agony.
Did he not say that he desired a marriage full of refusal and denial? He may have laid down this rule, but I will be the one who ensures that he suffers under it.
“Might I remind you, Your Grace,” she said, raising her eyebrows, “that you were the one who set certain boundaries in our marriage?”
She swallowed again, wishing that she possessed the power to rid them of this idiotic restriction, and he would claim her as she had so often dreamed.
