Page 110 of The Scandalous Love of a Duke
‘I love you,’ he whispered, increasing his tempo to allegro, moving more swiftly, but there was still a blissful planned determination about it as he delivered these swift, short, sharp strokes, making her pant for more and cling to his shoulders.
His breathing was heavy and rasping and she could feel and smell sweat on his skin. She liked his smell of him, and liked his body weight coming down more heavily on to her as he neared the end.
‘John!’ She broke again a moment after his weight fell fully on her and his body clenched in spasm.
His forehead rested on her shoulder.
Her fingers ran through his hair.
When he lifted off her and withdrew, she became cold, and shivered.
He walked about the bed and pulled the covers down. ‘Slide in.’
She did.
He climbed in beside her, leaving the candles burning, then set his arm about her shoulders and kissed her temple. ‘I love you, Katherine.’
‘I love you too,’ she said, pillowing her head on his shoulder.
‘Even after all I have done. I have treated you badly.’
‘Yes, but love cannot judge. It is why I turned Richard away after you left. I could not marry him when I still loved you.’
‘I will make you happy,’ he said.
‘I am going to make you happy too.’ Her fingers cupped his cheek. ‘Be yourself with me. I do not want you to be like the people I met tonight.’
38
‘Goodnight,’ Mary called in the hallway.
Her mother answered, ‘Sleep well.’
The sound pulled Katherine out of sleep.
The duke’s and duchess’s suite of rooms extended to the left, and although there were guest rooms opposite, his family used those stretching from the landing to the right.
It was not Mary’s voice that had woken Katherine though. John had disturbed her. He was breathing heavily, as though he were running, and beneath her palm his skin was clammy and his chest muscles twitched.
She rose onto her elbow.
In the light from a stub of a candle, she could see his eyes moving rapidly beneath his eyelids. Then he gasped and his arm flailed, pushing her away as he sat up suddenly.
‘No!’ His cry echoed about the room.
He was fully awake then and one leg hung from the edge of the bed as he sat up, while the other curled before him and his fingers clawed into the covers as he fought to catch his breath.
‘What did you dream?’ She sat up too, holding the sheet to cover her breasts.
He glanced at her as though he had forgotten she was there and he looked as though he did not quite understand where he was.
Jenny had dreams like this as a child, disorientating nightmares. Sometimes she had shouted so loud she had woken everyone.
‘Nothing,’ he answered.
A clock chimed three times. It was three after midnight.
John got up and drew in a deep breath, then he crossed the room to a decanter and poured a glass of brandy, his back to her.
