Page 38 of Claiming His Lost Duchess
Joan's mouth opened to protest, then closed again when she realized he was absolutely right.
“I want to spoil you,” Graham continued, his voice dropping to that low, intimate tone that made her stomach flutter. “I want to buy you beautiful things and watch other men envy me for having such an exquisite wife. Is that such a terrible thing?”
“It's just...” Joan struggled to find the words. “I'm not used to receiving such… generosity. Sophia and I... we've always managed on our own. And that has always worked fine for us.”
“I noticed,” Graham said dryly. “Speaking of which, I wish to discuss your behavior yesterday. When you found Sophia in my study.”
Joan's defenses immediately rose. “She was disturbing your work – “
“She was keeping me company while I handled some work,” Graham corrected. “And you reacted as though I posed some kind of threat to her.”
Joan looked away, unable to meet his penetrating gaze. “I don't know what you mean.”
“Don't you?” Graham moved closer still, close enough that Joan could feel the heat radiating from his body. “You rushed her away as though you were afraid I might steal her from you.”
The accusation hit too close to home, and Joan's temper flared. “That's ridiculous. I simply thought – ”
“You thought I might what? Corrupt her with my Scottish barbarian ways? Teach her improper manners? If that is what concerns you, you needn’t worry too much. I have already resolved to speak less of my Scottish tongue around her. I do not wish to overwhelm or confuse her.”
“No!” Joan's voice came out sharper than she intended. “I thought... I thought you might realize that you don't actually want this. Either of us. And I know what it's like for a child to lose someone they've grown attached to.”
The words hung in the air between them, heavy with old pain and current fear. Graham's expression softened immediately.
“Joan,” he said gently, “I've been looking for you for five years. Do you truly think I would go to such lengths just to abandon you the moment things became challenging?”
Joan wrapped her arms tighter around herself, hating how vulnerable she felt. “You don't understand. Sophia and I... we've only ever had each other. She's never had a father figure before, and seeing how quickly she's bonded with you...”
“Frightens you,” Graham finished.
Joan nodded, not trusting her voice.
“Because you're afraid I'll take her away from you. That she'll love me more than she loves you.”
“Don't be ridiculous,” Joan said, but her voice lacked conviction.
Graham reached out slowly, giving her time to pull away, smiling when she did not, and he cupped her face gently in his large hands. “Listen to me very carefully,mo chridhe. I didn't marry you out of obligation or duty. I married you because I wanted you. You, Joan, not just Sophia. I've wanted you since that first night we spent together, and five years of searching have only intensified that desire.”
Joan's breath caught at the intensity in his voice. “Your Grace – “
“Please call me by my name. I know you don't trust easily,” he continued, his thumbs brushing over her cheekbones. “I know you've been hurt by people who should have protected you. But I am not those people. I am your husband, and Sophia's father, and I'm not going anywhere.”
Before Joan could respond, Graham's mouth covered hers in a kiss that was both gentle and demanding. Joan felt the walls she had attempted to rebuild begin to crumble again as she melted into his embrace, her hands fisting in his shirt to pull him closer.
When they broke apart, both breathing heavily, Graham rested his forehead against hers. “I want to worship you,” he whispered against her lips. “I want to spend hours showing you exactly how much I desire you.”
Joan's knees went weak at the raw hunger in his voice. “Graham, we can't. The modiste – “
“Will assume we're still engrossed in a private discussion,” Graham murmured, his hands moving to push her dressing down over her shoulders. “Let me touch you, Joan. Let me prove to you that you're the only woman I want.”
Joan knew she should protest, should remind him that they were not alone in the house, that anyone could interrupt them. Instead, she found herself nodding, her body already responding to his proximity with shameful eagerness. The want within her was burning out of control, and she found herself more willing to be at its mercy than she should have been.
Graham's eyes darkened with satisfaction as the silk covering that had been over her fell to pool around her feet. Joan stood before him in nothing but her corset and chemise, feeling more exposed and vulnerable than she ever had. She was torn between hiding and basking in every shred of attention he showed her.
“Beautiful,” Graham breathed, his hands skimming over her curves with reverent appreciation. “So bloody beautiful.”
He kissed her again, deeper this time, his tongue exploring her mouth with increasing urgency. Joan whimpered against his lips as his hands roamed over her body, relearning every curve and sensitive spot with methodical thoroughness. She pressed closer, wanting more of his warmth, of his touch, of his desire.
When Graham's mouth left hers to trail kisses along her throat, Joan had to bite back a moan. His lips were warm and demanding against her skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
