Page 40 of The Duke's Bartered Mistress

Apparently she failed in her attempts to keep her reaction from showing, because he sighed and rolled his head from side to side, a sort of lying-down shrug.

“My father, the third baron, was a man much aulder than my mother. Her father—whom she also detested, if ye’re keeping score—gave her in marriage against her wishes.”

Oh.

Georgia’s fingers tightened around themselves.

She understood that anger. Father had been negotiating her own marriage to an Earl much older than herself, before she’d met Roger. Now that he was gone and years had passed, she could admit that one of the reasons she’d married him was to thwart her father’s plans.

Father knew that as well, which explained the tight leash he’d kept her on all these years, and why she worked so hard to be useful.

“I am sorry for her,” she said in a soft voice. “Did she grow to care for him?”

“No’ even after all these years. He was a philanderer and had more than his share of illnesses from it, some of which he passed on to his young wife.”

When she gasped in understanding, Demon nodded firmly enough that a lock of his dark hair fell in front of his scarred cheek. She gave in to the urge to lean forward and move it out of the way.

Demon didn’t seem to notice. “My mother always claimed he died from bad turtle soup, but I wouldnae put it past her to have poisoned the auld bastard.”

This time, only Georgia’s fingers on her lips stifled her horrified gasp. He’d had to live all these years with that concern? The poor woman, to have been driven that far…

“How horrible for her.” For you.

But Demon merely shrugged. “She’s a strong woman. Quite determined to lead her own life, and dictate mine as well.” The curl of his lips was more of a snarl and less of a smile, but it looked rueful either way.

Georgia could guess one of the reasons he hid at Endymion: to escape this strong-willed woman.

“My father died before I was born, so I’ve been Baron since birth.” He uncrossed his arms and shook them out, as if anxious for movement. “She shortened my title, used to call me her little Demon when I was toddling about. Kenning her, my guess is she thought it quite amusing to call a wee bairn such.”

Georgia’s eyes narrowed. “I am feeling less sorry for her now. Her sense of humor sounds as twisted as a—a very twisty thing. A corkscrew!”

“I dinnae ken why I’m telling ye all this.”

Neither did Georgia, but she was grateful for it.

Impulsively, she reached for one of his hands, wrapping it in both of hers.

Staring down at their twined fingers, Georgia realized this was one of the few casual touches they’d had outside of her bedroom.

You went about this all backwards, did you not? First the sex, then the kiss, then the holding hands? And through it all, your heart is beating like a wild caged bird.

Her palm pressed against his, and she thought she could feel his pulse against her skin.

The anticipation, the nervousness from earlier…had turned to something else.

His nearness, his scent, spiked her arousal. This wasn’t trepidation, but excitement.

Yes, they’d gone about everything backwards. And thus far, they’d only fooked—as he said—from behind, so she couldn’t see him as he took her. Tonight, here, she wanted more. She wanted him.

Her gaze had swung to his face. She watched him studying their joined hands, his lips tugging into a frown. She wanted to taste those lips again. She wanted to kiss away his uncertainty, his shame.

Taking a deep breath, Georgia lifted his hand to her lips and kissed his knuckle. When his nostrils flared and he sucked in a breath, she hid her smile by gently nipping at the skin on the back of his forefinger. There was a small white scar there, more across his knuckles.

Why would a baron’s hands be nicked by a blade? Why would he have calluses?

She turned his hand over, and using a feather-light touch, traced the lines of his palm, then placed a kiss in the center of his hand.

To her surprise, his hand twisted in her grasp, and he pressed it against her cheek, the sensation warm and comforting and…safe.

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