Page 57 of My One and Only Duke
Then Papa had broken Stephen’s leg, and Quinn had focused entirely on making money. Life had become simpler, and Quinn hadn’t looked back.
He held out his wrists for Jane to remove his sleeve buttons. “I’m leaving for York in the morning on bank business. The man I supposedly killed hails from York, and I thought while I was in the area I’d make a few inquiries.”
He hadn’t meant to tell her that. Hadn’t wanted her involved, and her glower confirmed she didn’t want to be involved.
She took his sleeve buttons, hopped off the bed, and dumped them into the vanity tray.
“Leave it alone, Quinn. Don’t borrow trouble. Let sleeping dogs lie, and let bygones be bygones. Whoever put you in prison failed, and you’re a duke now. Act like one. Go on about your life in a dignified fashion, and all will be well.”
She leaned into him, her arms about his middle.
She was very confident of her platitudes, though her naïve sermon confirmed that Quinn was right to spare her the details of his investigations.
So he’d offer her a platitude in return. “I’ve cheated the hangman, Jane. Nothing will happen to me.”
Her gaze promised argument, even now, even about this.
In exasperation—and desperation—Quinn kissed his wife.
Chapter Fifteen
Jane usually spent half of her day spinning theories about her husband.
Maybe his ordeal in Newgate had disturbed his manly humors so badly he could not consummate his vows. This theory wanted supporting evidence, for in every way, Quinn had returned to his former responsibilities with impressive vigor.
Perhaps he’d suffered an injury that rendered him sexually incapable. Gordie, veteran of many a gruesome battle, had assured her such was possible.
Again, no helpful evidence was on hand to support Jane’s theory, for she’d seen Quinn nearly naked. He bore many scars, none of them in a location that would affect his breeding organs.
The obvious reason for Quinn’s conjugal indifference had ample supporting evidence: He was sexually capable, and simply not attracted to Jane. As considerate as he was, his touch bore no hint of desire, his gaze was never lustful. The obvious explanation was the most likely, and Jane was ridiculous for being upset over that.
And yet, one more theory had presented itself: Quinn did not know how to make love with a lady. He’d managed a luscious kiss on their wedding day, and that might have been luck or chivalry. Maybe when it came to greater intimacies a minister’s daughter baffled him.
The first week following Jane’s elopement, Gordie had offered a few amatory flourishes. Kisses, caresses, love words that had rung false but sounded well intended. Jane’s eyes did not outshine the glory of the stars, her breasts were not more abundant than heaven’s blessings, for pity’s sake.
Her blushes had been profuse, however.
Maybe Quinn thought she needed those ridiculous metaphors. Maybe once upon a time, she had. Now she wanted only him, though her longings weren’t merely sexual in nature. She wanted to be a wife Quinn could trust and esteem, a true wife, not one more family member expecting him to provide for her every comfort.
Though Quinn apparently did not care to be a true husband.
She formed the intention to step back from him, to give up and spend another night trying to ignore her husband’s warmth in the bed beside her, but her body refused to obey the sensible decision of her mind.
Quinn pressed his mouth to hers, gently, gently. “You’re tenacious as a badger.”
A compliment. She smiled into his kiss. “Thank you. More, please.”
He slid a hand to cradle the back of her head and held her still, while he explored her features. Nose, eyebrows, jaw, chin…He wandered by kisses and delicate brushes of his fingers to every aspect of her face, making her aware of herself in a new way.
Tension Jane had been holding forever slid away, until she was clinging to Quinn to remain upright, and for the sheer joy of embracing him.
He knew how to kiss. Holy winged cupids, did he ever know how to kiss.
“Do ye turn up shy on me now, Jane?”
She kissed him back, such as she could when he was so much taller. Her belly prevented her from pressing as close as she longed to, but she was near enough to know that her husband was growing aroused.
“The bed, Quinn. Please…the bed.”
