Page 41 of A Duke for Stealing
Everett forced his eyes away from her breasts, and he did his best to ignore the sudden stiffening beneath his trousers.
“What?”
“The dress,” Rose repeated, her voice stiff with annoyance.
Everett blinked, trying his best to concentrate through the haze of need surrounding him.
“What is wrong with the dress?” He asked, rubbing the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes, hoping that it would help.
It did not.
“You chose it!”
Everett dropped his hand and looked at her again.
“So?” He choked out.
God’s teeth, man. Get a hold of yourself!
“So I did not want a new dress,” Rose insisted.
Everett’s brows rose up as he rubbed the growing tension at the back of his neck.
“Rose,” he sighed, suddenly exhausted by his pent-up feelings, “You are a duchess now, you must dress according to your-”
“Yes, yes, I must dress according to my new station,” she hastily cut him off, looking more perturbed than ever, “I have heard it all day. From my friends. From the modiste. If my Mother were there, she would have surely reminded me as well.”
“Rose,” he sighed, “I am trying to understand what has you so upset. Is it that I could not go with you to purchase the dress? I would have if I had the time.”
Rose’s brows flew up as she crossed her arms under her breasts, and Everett had to fight himself from dropping his gaze back down to the enticing bit of cleavage that now swelled atop her nightgown.
“You would have?” She asked.
“You sound surprised,” he replied. “Why?”
Her bitter laugh made his arousal fade for a moment.
“What is so shocking about that?” He demanded.
“Oh, I do not know. Perhaps because this is not a real marriage?”
Everett glared at her, surprised at how betrayed he felt at the question.
“Thisisa real marriage, Rose. You are myrealwife. And I would like to do nice things for you from time to time,” he replied.
“Since when?” She demanded.
Everett groaned. He might have been frustrated with her before, but he didn’t want to fight with her. Not when his body was begging him for the complete opposite.
“What is wrong with the dress?” He asked. “Is it the wrong color?”
Rose’s brows tensed, but her stiff shoulders dropped a little.
“No.”
“Is it the design?”
Her shoulders dropped a little more. As did her head.
