Page 31 of The Duke's Tempting Widow
Over her dead body.
“I thought that I might take a visit to London for a short while. There is some research that I would like to conduct that might give us some options for handling Cassian. I would like to see what I can do to try to get ahead of this whole situation,ahead of the story or discredit him in some way before he has a chance to act on things.” Weston offered.
Lydia wondered what good it could possibly do? Was there a point? Kitty would have to be informed that her reputation might be ruined… or worse. A scandal coming out like this was going to bring shame to her late husband’s memory for being the one to fund everything that needed to happen at the time.
Jacob had paid off all of father’s debts as well as the silence of those who wished to ruin Kitty. All of that would be undone with a few words. Though, she could not imagine what sort of proof that the leech thought that he could actually have.
After another long moment of silence, she finally spun back around to face the duke, his remorse and concern etched into his handsome face. “I understand why you did what you did. I wish you would have told me, but I appreciate that you are telling me now. I certainly do not expect you to give up your inheritance just to save my sister.”
“You think that my concern is the money?” Weston half smiled, but it was not an amused expression.
“I do not care about the money, my lady, for I have more than enough funds for my life. I will not cave to his demands because I do not wish to see the estate to be taken out from under you. I cannot bear it. You have proven that you belong here, as do your daughters. This is their father’s home, and theylove it. They will grow and thrive here; it is the only future that I will allow.”
He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “I would have hoped that you did not think so lowly of me in the time that we have gotten to know one another.” He trailed off for a moment and then shook his head, lifting out of the seat entirely.
If he had said such a thing to her yesterday, then she would have had an answer ready for him. She would have probably smiled at him, or even teased him about being unsure of her feelings when she thought that she had been perfectly clear about her desires even if she was not willing to act upon them.
She still fell asleep to fantasies of him each and every night. She awoke in the morning knowing that she had been dreaming of him. It was a restless, constant sort of desire that felt like an hourglass just waiting for the moment that the sand would run out and she would surrender to those impulses.
“The best way to ensure that the estate will be able to be left in your capable hands when this contestation is finished, will be to ensure that Cassian can never place a thin, greasy finger on the place.” Weston tried to smile down at her then, but the reality of the situation was truly starting to sink in.
“What if he comes here while you are away, Your Grace? What am I supposed to do then?” Lydia asked as Weston camecloser. He took a seat on the edge of the desk, so close that if she just turned the chair slightly, she would be able to feel his thigh against her own.
“He will not. At his core, he is a coward. That is why he is doing this. He does not have the honor or ability to seek his own fortune, and he would much rather steal the fortune of others. I shall do my best to return quickly.” Weston assured her. “He is the sort of man that my father would call ‘worm-bellied’. Though, perhaps if he had been raised by parents as strict and cold as my own, then he would wish to be a better man. A protector.”
Lydia bit down on her bottom lip softly. She nodded once, accepting his words even though the prospect of him leaving made her nervous.
“I will make this better, my lady, I promise it.” Weston said.
Lydia believed him. Emotion threatened to choke her as she leaned forward and grabbed Weston’s hand. She pressed her forehead into his hand, then let her cheek rest against it, savoring the contact for as long as she could allow it. Weston squeezes her hand softly in return.
“I should ready my things. I shall depart this evening after dinner.” Weston said.
It felt too soon. Such an influx of information so quickly that she could not absorb it. More than that, she did not wish to see him go. “Do not—” Lydia swallowed back the words, unsure if she trusted herself to keep speaking. She was angry, of course, but she was more afraid.
Frightened of losing this deal, frightened that Weston might decide that this was too much of a burden and simply never return from London—frightened for her sister and everything that might come crashing down around them.
Whatever was to come, she wished to face it with him at her side. It was such a simpler thing to think of having him here to support her, to hold her perhaps. Was she willing to give that up? No.
Lydia’s eyes flicked upward to his, softening as she pulled on his hand slightly, urging him closer to her. “You cannot leave without a proper kiss goodbye.”
Chapter 19
Time froze and the air in the room seemed to grow thin as the seconds started to feel like years.
But Weston did not need to be told twice. He moved gracefully, cupping Lydia’s face in his warm hands as he bent to let his lips brush against hers softly, as if afraid she might change her mind. Her eyes fluttered closed as she arched herself upward into the contact. She only wanted to feel like herself again. With so many things about to spin out of her control, she wished to have just one thing that she could hold in her grasp.
Her hands flattened against his chest. Weston would be gone for at least a month. With the travel alone it would take time to search for things and learn whatever it is that he is looking for. If for whatever reason he did not come back to her, would she be able to live with herself knowing that she finally had the opportunities that she had always dreamt of and still never acted upon it?
They were guaranteed privacy here in this office, that much she was certain of.
When the duke started to pull away from her, the soft kiss was not nearly enough. She pulled him closer by the waistcoat.Weston’s hands fell to the arms of the chair that she sat on to keep from falling on top of her with the sudden force. She kissed him again, deeper, exploring the sensation of keeping him so close to her. Heat unfurled in her, the same kind that only he seemed to be able to stoke within her.
Was there truly any way that she was going to have her fill of him? It certainly did not seem so. Every touch only made her desire more. The leather of the armchair creaked in protest as Weston’s hands tightened over it. She wanted to know that he desired her too. Was it so simple for him to leave her? If only he would allow the self-restraint to fall by the wayside, then perhaps she could have been feeling this good the whole time.
A soft moan of pleasure filtered between their lips. She had not even meant to make it, but she tried to pull him down to herself again, her tongue running along the seam of his lips—and then he unleashed himself. His hands dropped to her hips, lifting her clear out of the chair and taking her seat in it instead, leaving her to straddle his hips, her knees digging into the back of the chair on either side of his body. Her skirts rode up indecently high on her legs, baring even her thighs to the air of the room. Her body felt as if it were on fire, sparking every time that he touched her.
His hands stayed on her waist, letting her body arch into his as she traced every line and curve of his face with the tips of her fingers. She was determined to commit this to memory, every sigh and hitch of his breath and sheknewfrom the reverent way he mimicked the motions of her hands on his faceagainst the fabric of her dress on her waist that he was doing the same thing.
