Page 76 of An Innocent Maid for the Duke
The girl sniffed. ‘There’s no smoke without a fire. He owes my family a marriage. And my papa isn’t one to leave a debt unpaid.’
She flounced away to join an older lady who was looking daggers at Rose. The girl’s mother.
Instead of shrinking beneath that stare as she might have a few weeks ago, Rose straightened her shoulders. Poor Jake, if that young woman was his ultimate fate.
A horrid suspicion crossed her mind. Was he aware of this family’s expectations? Was that why he had played croquet with the girl?
* * *
Rose sat in the chair beside the window, looking over the gardens. Night had fallen a good two hours before and still Jake had not come to her.
Not only that, while he’d been his usually gentlemanly self in the carriage on the way home from the musicale, he’d returned to his former coolness. He’d barely spoken to her and only answered his grandmother’s enquiries as to the affairs at his estate with brusque brevity. In the end, Eleanor had taken him to task for his rudeness and he’d made more of an effort.
Had he finally realised how unsuitable she was as a companion for his grandmother and was trying to pluck up the courage to let her go? Mr Challenger had recognised her. She was sure of it. And if he had not, she had certainly seen the reservation in his gaze, despite that he’d been the soul of politeness and his wife had been lovely.
And noble.
Her hands clenched in her lap. That was the sort of woman Jake would marry. A girl of good family. One who would not cause him to be ashamed. She just hoped he didn’t choose Lady Alicia for a bride. That girl would not make him happy. And no matter what happened, she did want him to be happy.
A knock at the door startled her. She shot to her feet.
Jake strode in. Fully clothed.
He usually came in a dressing gown of green silk covered in golden dragons.
Her stomach fell away at the grim look on his face, the intensity in his eyes as he took in herdishabille.
‘Rose.’ His voice had a rough edge to it.
‘Jake?’
‘I came to tell you...’
She held her breath, her heart balanced on a knife-edge of expectation, ready, but in no way prepared for the pain of his words of parting.
He closed his eyes briefly, stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.
‘You came to tell me?’ she prompted in a whisper, tipping her face to meet his gaze, seeing heat there, desire flaring between them as it always did.
He kissed her, hard and deep, a low growl rising up from his throat. Feral. Not tender, not sweet, but wild and hungry. Full of dark passion.
A rush of desire ran hot through her blood, her heart picked up speed, her body trembled. She twined her arms around his neck and kissed him back hard. How could she have thought she had lost him?
Their tongues tangled, her heart pounded against her breastbone making it hard to breath and she sank into the fire of a blazing kiss. Moments seemed like for ever until they fell apart, breathless.
He attacked the ties of her robe, she tore at the buttons of his coat. He shrugged out of his jacket, then his waistcoat; she let the dressing robe slide to the floor. He tore off his neckcloth. Ripped his shirt off over his head.
She jerked at the ribbon holding her bodice closed.
He groaned as the gown dipped down one shoulder, pulled her close and kissed her again. In a movement so swift and effortless she felt weightless, he picked her up and carried her to the bed, depositing her carefully on the mattress. It took him mere seconds to strip out of his nether garments and, gloriously naked, he joined her on the bed, giving her no time to admire his rampant erection and manly physique.
Never had she seen him so demanding, so urgent, so fierce.
It called to something inside her she had not known existed. The need to be overpowered, to feel vulnerable, yet powerful in a different way. As if in breaking through his control, he had given her something strange and wonderfully exhilarating.
Without thought, without modesty, she drew her nightdress off over her head and brought his mouth to her aching breast.
He drew deeply on the aching nub. A pain of such piercing sweetness arrowed deep to the heart of her femininity. She cried out. Her hips arched, pressing into him, feeling his hardness against her mons. Seeking him inside her.
