Page 7 of King of Rogues
She gave Harry a brief nod and headed straight for the door, taking what was left of her crumbling pride with her.
Monsale lifted his brandy to his lips and took a sip, all the while his gaze lingered on the retreating figure of Lady Naomi as she walked away. The duke’s daughter was feisty, headstrong, and determined.
She was also thoroughly delicious.
The way her generous breasts filled out the top of her evening gown always made his heartbeat skip to a fast clip. And the fabulous sway of her hips and ass as she moved. Even in a foul mood, she had a certain allure about her.
If only you weren’t so bloody tempting.
If she had been any other woman, he might have already given up the fight and married her. But Monsale was no fool. He knew full well that the man who did eventually marry Lady Naomi Steele was signing up for a life with a stubborn wife. She had made no secret of the fact that she would want a marriage of equals. To have a say in every one of her husband’s major decisions.
The mere thought made him scoff. He had never been one for any sort of connection or relationship being based on an equal footing. In his business dealings people did as he instructed. Even the other members of the RR Coaching Company, his closest friends, and partners, yielded to his demands.
He’d had almost twenty years of no one daring to question, let alone countermand his commands. His loyal steward Adan had been the first and last to try it on that fateful day in Bermuda.
Monsale had long ago realized that acquaintances and even friends could be easily manipulated, but the woman who made it plain that she wished to be his duchess was someone he knew he could not control. Lady Naomi had grown up a duke’s daughter and was used to having people listen to her. In the Steele household, her opinions carried weight. She had power and influence. And that made her dangerous to a man like him.
She will challenge me. Expect to be my equal. I can’t have that with anyone.
Monsale was utterly clueless when it came to being able to handle a woman such as Naomi. He knew enough from the marriages of his fellow rogues of the road that only a rash idiot would attempt to tame a wife. Naomi wouldn’t ever stand for a man to tell her what to do.
She will bite the hand off the first person who tries to put a leash on her.
During his illicit career he had battled bloody pirates and taken on both the French and British navies, but when it came to dealing with headstrong women, Andrew McNeal, Duke of Monsale hadn’t the foggiest notion as to what he should do.
And yet, you still want her.
His nights had long been filled with dreams of holding Naomi naked in his arms; of her long golden locks splayed out across the sheets of his bed. Of her soft sighs of sexual completion. Of knowing that he was the only man she loved. The only one who would ever possess both her heart and body.
What on earth am I going to do about her?
“You certainly have a knack when it comes to annoying the devil out of my sister,” observed Harry.
Monsale lifted his glass to his lips, surprised to discover that it was, in fact, empty. When had he finished the last of his drink?
“I don’t know why she insists on asking me to dance with her, she knows I never partake,” he replied.
Harry gave a knowing hum. “One day some other chap will catch Naomi’s eye. Might even sweep her off her feet and offer to marry her. The question you have to ask yourself, old chap, is, are you prepared to stand by and let that happen?”
And while Naomi was no longer a fresh debutante, she was still one of the major catches of the London ton. Her dowry and lineage were enough to have her firmly at the top of every noble matchmaking mother’s list.
Harry’s remark pulled Monsale up short. Doing his best to maintain his air of vague interest, he slowly turned and met his friend’s gaze. “Is there someone else in your sister’s line of sight? I mean an earl or a marquis she might be prepared to settle on?”
“Who knows. But eventually, she may tire of receiving a firm no from the lips of a certain duke and decide that hearing yes from someone else is enough on which to build a life. You have been warned.”
Monsale was in sudden need of another stiff drink.
Would she? Could she really choose another over me?
And what if Naomi finally did give up on him and agreed to settle down with another chap? Some gormless lesser male whom she could dominate, and who would soon bore her to tears. It was a chilling prospect, one which would see all parties living out a miserable, bitter existence.
What if I do push her patience too far? If she gives up.
He was in no particular hurry to leap into the arms of wedded bliss, but Lord Harry’s words gave Monsale reason for pause. There surely had to be a limit as to what Naomi would endure from him. She was a female, and her sights had to be set on finding a husband.
What would he do if he lost her? Naomi might well be stubborn, but she was the only woman Monsale could ever imagine waking up next to for the rest of his life.
This birthday evening had seen him presented with several unexpected gifts. The prospect of Naomi choosing another over him, the most unwelcome of them.
