Page 131 of His Grace, the Duke
Her lips quivered as she did as he asked, taking in the tenderness of those green eyes that haunted her dreams. Reaching up, she cupped his cheek. “I can’t bear to be apart from you anymore,” she whispered. “I can’t pretend I don’t need you, watch for you, ache for you. No more stairwells. No more shutting me out. Please, James... it’s so cold outside your walls. Let me in—”
With a groan he pressed at her entrance, his cock sliding through her wet heat as he sheathed himself to the hilt. “You’re in,” he panted, his hips grinding her into the floor as he leaned over her. “God help me, you’re in, and I can’t get you out.”
“I love you,” she cried, burying her face in his shoulder as he claimed her so beautifully. “James, I love you. I’ll give you anything. You can have anything if you’ll only let me stay inside your heart.”
She was right on the edge, ready to come apart. She moved with him, chasing her release. She didn’t even care if he came inside her. In fact, a secret part of her thrilled at the idea. She clung to him, ready to ride him out.
But he’d stopped moving. His hips were still. He pantedabove her, body going tense. Before she could ask what was wrong, he pulled out, shifting back on his knees.
She lifted herself on her elbows. “James—”
“I have to go,” he muttered, already shoving his hard length back inside his pants.
Anxiety gripped her. “What?”
He stood, snatching for his clothes.
She sat up, her arms reflexively covering her naked breasts as hot shame boiled through her. “I don’t understand—”
“It is not for you to understand,” he growled, shrugging on the waistcoat. His cheeks were pink. He couldn’t look at her.
Even through her humiliation, her urge was still to comfort him. She scrambled to her feet as he turned away, heading for the door. She reached out, taking hold of his arm. It was hard as iron, his entire body like a suit of armor. Impenetrable. “James,please—” She was begging, and she didn’t care. A tear slipped down her cheek. “Tell me what I’ve done wrong now.”
He turned, his face a mask of misery and longing. Her James was still inside, hiding behind those shielded eyes, warring with himself. Over what, she didn’t know. But he lifted a gentle hand, brushing her tear away with his thumb. “I will not be the man who breaks your spirit.”
With that, he left.
62
Tom
It was allTom could do to sit still and wait for the opera’s first act to finish. Judging by the way Burke kept drumming his fingers on his knee, he felt the same way. But they’d agreed James would have this time alone with her. They needed it. Burke and Tom could wait.
As soon as the last notes were sung and the crowd began to clap, Burke launched to his feet. “Finally.” He slapped his program down on his chair.
With a chuckle, Tom got to his feet, stretching his arms just to be an arse.
Burke gave him a shove, impatient to get behind the curtain. Tom let himself be pushed, laughing as he stepped past it. His smile immediately fell.
James was gone, and Rosalie— “Oh, Christ.” Tom darted forward.
Rosalie was curled in a ball on her side on the settee, her hands holding to the front of her dress, as she silently wept. Her face was wet with her tears.
She sat up as he approached. “I cou-couldn’t get it backon,” she sobbed, holding it to her chest. The back of it was still open.
Tom scooped her into his arms and sat, cradling her across his lap. He brushed her hair back from her face, kissing her brow. “Oh, my sweet girl. What happened?”
“Where is he?” Burke muttered.
Tom glanced up to see his eyes, dark as two stormy seas. “He-he left,” she cried. “And I couldn’t get my dress back on—”
Tom shushed her, gently rubbing her open back. She’d replaced her stays, her gloves, she’d even tried to fix her hair. He gave Burke a pleading look. He knew Burke was at war with himself—comfort Rosalie... or thrash James.
“I ruined everything,” Rosalie mumbled. “I can’t do this. I ca-can’t make him love me. And if he can’t love me... if he won’t have me... I can’t have either of you.”
His decision made, Burke swept forward and dropped down next to Tom on the settee, his hands immediately reaching for their girl. “What can you be saying?” he muttered, threading his fingers in with hers, pressing kisses to her exposed shoulder.
She looked between them. “I will not come between you,” she declared. “I will not break what the three of you share. You were fine before you met me—”
