Page 46 of Falling Into Bed with a Duke
He glided that cupped hand along her arm, took her hand, and lifted her fingers to his mouth. She was aware of the warmth of his breath, the softness of his lips. “Do you want me to ruin the surprise I planned for you?”
The tightness in her chest unfurled like a rose blossoming at first light. “What if I hadn’t come?”
“I’d have left here a broken man.”
A corner of her mouth curled up. “I doubt that.”
“Well, perhaps not broken, but very disappointed. Shall we go up?”
The time had come. While her nerves threatened to jump about, she took a deep breath to calm them. She would not—could not—back out again. She’d made her decision to come here, to meet him tonight, because she wanted to be in his arms. He was the one, the one she yearned for, the one she wanted to take her more deeply into the realm of pleasure. She trusted him. He could have taken advantage before, could have pressured her, could have been angry when she changed her mind. But all along, he’d been patient, understanding, gentle—even though he’d told her that he liked it rough and hard. The kiss against the door had no doubt been a sampling.
It hadn’t frightened her then, the thought of it didn’t frighten her now. She wanted to be with him. For tonight, she relished the fantasy that he yearned to be with her.
She nodded. Wrapping his arm around her back, he turned her for the stairs, then brought her in closer against his side as they ascended them. When they reached the top, he escorted her along a different hallway, at the end of which was another set of stairs. He guided her up them. At the top was only one door.
She was shimmering with anticipation as he unlocked it, shoved it open. This time, after she passed over the threshold, she wasn’t surprised when the door slammed in her wake and she found her back against it, her hands shackled over her head, his mouth hungrily and greedily devouring hers. This time she welcomed him without hesitation, without reservation.
“You were late,” he snarled.
She laughed. “All of three minutes.”
She’d almost not come. She’d climbed into the carriage, climbed out of it. Back in. Then she’d had the driver drop her off a few blocks from the Nightingale, sent him on his way, and prayed he’d say nothing to her father. But why would he? He didn’t know her final destination or the mischief she was getting into.
“Each one was an eternity of agony,” Ashebury ground out.
The joy spiraling through her only increased when he latched his mouth back onto hers. He wanted her, yearned for her, desired her. He made her feel beautiful and elegant. He made her feel as though she mattered to him.
“Take off the mask,” he demanded, his mouth hot against her throat.
“No.” Tonight was fantasy, the dreams of a homely girl who had never known the heat of passion, who had never been made to feel desired. Who had thought she’d be destined for a cold marriage until she’d decided she’d rather hold her head up high as a spinster than bow before a man who couldn’t love her.
Leaning back slightly, he peered through the small openings of the mask into her eyes, bracketed his hands on either side of her throat, skimmed his thumbs along her chin. “After all we’ve shared thus far, why won’t you reveal yourself to me?”
“Because it will change everything.”
“Could change everything for the better.”
“I don’t think so. I’ll become self-conscious, uncomfortable. Probably won’t go through with it. But I want very much to be with you.” She cradled his jaw. “Still, I need the mystery.”
Placing his hand over hers, he held it in place while he turned his head slightly and pressed a kiss to its center. “How will you explain your touched state on your wedding night?”
“I’m not going to marry.”
His eyes held hers. “What if you have an offer?”
“I don’t trust any man to be sincere when he says he wants me. None has ever claimed to love me.” She lowered her hand to his lapel, squeezed her fingers around it. “Don’t say those words to me tonight. I don’t need them. I want honesty between us.”
“Says the woman in the gilded mask.”
“There’s no dishonesty in not revealing who I am when it is the mark of this place. Didn’t you accept these conditions with other women?”
“But none of them intrigue me as you do. Yet if the choice is to accept your terms or not have you ... I’ll accept your terms.” He released her, stepped away. “Now, let’s enjoy what Lady Eliza prepared for us.”
She looked more closely at the room then, realized it was larger than the other. Thick red velvet hung from the canopy of the bed in stark contrast to the white satin sheets that glistened in the candlelight like a shimmering pool of decadence. Within the sitting area, a fire burned low on the hearth. Near the window was a cloth-covered table set with a light repast and a bottle of wine. Ashebury was pouring the burgundy liquid into two goblets.
Wandering over, she said, “I’m not certain I caneat.”
He peered at her. “If not now, later. You need to keep up your strength. We have all night.”
