Page 190 of The Good Duke
With Simon, she didn’t have to hide anything, and she never had, until they’d been reunited. Now, loving him as she did, and knowing he loved her just as ardently, she never would.
“Perhaps, you’d like to suggest some?” Persephone said in a throaty invitation.
Epilogue
“…The day had been both a whirlwind and a triumph…”
Such was the flattering and lavish praise Lady Jersey heaped upon the exclusive wedding of Simon Broadbent, the Duke of Greystoke, to Miss Persephone Forsyth.
Of course, bride and bridegroom, Persephone and Simon, now the Duchess and Duke of Greystoke, had reached that conclusionfarbefore Lady Jersey, the premier guest—and for that matter, theonlymember of the peerage aside from Lord P, to attend the whirlwind ceremony—decreed the affair a grand triumph.
From where Simon lay, with one leg hanging over the arm of the white silk camelback sofa, he could have called it the greatesteven beforethe actual wedding between him and Seph commenced.
For it’d been theirlovewhich was ultimately the greatest triumph. Against time and all odds and obstacles, they found their way back to each other.
While his goddess of a wife, of just three hours, stroked her long fingers through Simon’s hair, a lazy smile formed on his lips.
“Duchess,” a droll voice intoned from the Provencal settee opposite Simon and Persephone. “If you’d be so gracious as to point out to your very rude husband that I’m hardly reading something to merit his amusement.”
Lord Kit brandished a copy ofThe Timesspecial edition that’d just circulated throughout London and only just arrived. “In fact, by my estimation, it is amostmomentous moment I’m speaking about.”
“Reading,” Simon said dryly. “Right now, you’re just reciting some gossip’s words.”
Ignoring Simon, Lord Kit skimmed the page. “Where was I?”
“Leav—”
Persephone gave Simon a hard pinch.
“Ouch.” Frowning, he glanced up at his beautiful bride. “What was that for?”
“Do not be rude, my love,” she whispered. All the while, Simon’s bestfriendcontinued speaking inaudibly to himself.
Simon grabbed Persephone’s hand and drew her knuckles to his mouth. “Only because you ask it, my heart.” He flicked his tongue over that flesh.
Persephone’s eyes slipped shut.
Lord Kit waved his paper about noisily. “Ah, here we are! I’vegotit.”
“With your lengthy and impressive career in the Home Office,” Simon rejoined, keeping his features deadpan, “I never doubted you for one s—Ouch.” He scowled up as Persephone delivered yet another pinch.
Leaning down, Persephone whispered against his mouth. “Behave.”
“You hate it when I behave,” he mouthed. “In fact, for every pinch and reprimand you give me, my bride, I will repay you threefold.”
By the audible uptick in her breathing and the desire that glittered in her expressive eyes, she was as aroused by the prospect asSimon.
He again raised her hand to his lips and ever so discreetly nipped her flesh. “We’re both naughty souls, aren’t we, sweet Persephone?”
She bit her lower lip. “The naughties—”
From where he sat, Lord Kit made a bother of himself yet again. “Do tell me if you’d rather I not continu—”
Simon cut him off. “We’d rather you not—Ouch.”
“Woh, now, good fellow.” Pruitt slapped a palm against his chest. “I’m wounded, positivelywounded.”
This time, when Simon turned his gaze up to Persephone’s, hers reflected not only a like lust, but a glimmer of what her latest pinch promised—and also what she looked forward to.
