Page 12 of The Duke's Counterfeit Wife

A hungry kind of stare, her green eyes wide behind those spectacles.

Felicity—and it was impossible to think of her as Miss Montrose when he’d felt her breasts pressed against him—dragged her gaze from his eyes to his shoulders, lingering on his jaw, then down his arms.

As she studied his bare forearms, he could feel the heat from her gaze.

His hands curled into fists, the old scars stretched…and the movement drew her attention lower.

When his cock jumped in his trousers, he could swear she was looking at it.

Christ on the Cross, who is this woman?

And then her tongue darted out across her lower lip, an innocent little movement that nonetheless sent him throbbing.

Why was she here? Did she ring his bell to ogle him? With that naïve innocence, as if she didn’t know what she was doing to him? Had she forgotten the threat he’d posed last night?

Had she forgotten how he’d felt?

Griffin’s gaze darted back to her son, who was watching them both with a little smirk. What was it Bull had said last night, as he’d escorted his mother home? Something about one of the cats getting away?

Was that why they were here? One of the woman’s ubiquitous cats had escaped, and they thought the beast was in his home?

He turned his glare back to the red-headed beauty, whose cheeks were beginning to match her hair, and he growled.

Aye, it was a growl, and aye, it was effective to draw her attention away from the bulge in his trousers.

Was she here because of a missing feline? “I dinnae have yer pussy.”

She blinked, almost owlishly, behind her spectacles, then cocked her head to one side and blurted, “Would ye like to?”

Chapter 3

Oh.

Oh, no.

Felicity’s eyes widened as she realized what she’d said. Her hands shot out in front of her, patting the air between her and the dangerous man standing in the doorway. As if that would possibly help.

“I—!” Oh, goodness. “I just meant…the cats!” She was making a hash of this. “If you would like one, I have plenty! I am certain your children would enjoy having a pet—”

She broke off with a groan as one of his dark brows rose.

God in Heaven, how could such a threatening man look so enticing?

There is something wrong with you, clearly. That is the only explanation. You must take to your bed for a bit. Bring one of your naughty books.

This time her groan was a little louder, and she was mortified by how needy it sounded. Abruptly, she turned about and would’ve hurried down the steps—and back to the certainty of her home—had Bull not grabbed her elbow.

“Flick?”

She turned to glare at him, almost grateful for a chance to take out the anger at herself on someone else. “I am your mother!”

A flicker of uncertainty passed across his face, and she felt the tension ebbing from her shoulders. Bull was such a strange creature, this boy she’d birthed so long ago. She’d missed him fiercely when she’d had to give him up, and their years apart had changed him from the laughing, bright-eyed bairn he’d been.

But that lad was still in there somewhere. He was just hidden by the fierce mask of affability he’d cultivated in the last decade.

After months together, she still felt as if she barely knew him, but she loved him.

His expression had softened. “Aye, Mother. But dinnae run away yet, eh?”

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