Page 71 of The Duke's Counterfeit Wife

Felicity sucked in a breath as Griffin lunged for the lad, but pulled himself back at the last moment.

She saw his hands opening and closing into fists and her mind whirled, trying to find some way to diffuse the situation.

This was not what she had expected—but then, her experiment had been rather…vocal.

To her surprise, Bull did it, his shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry. I shouldnae have said that.”

“Ye’re fooking right, ye shouldnae. She’s yer mother, lad. Ye owe her more respect than that.”

Both Felicity’s and Bull’s eyes went wide at Griffin’s defense of her. Her son opened his mouth, but Griffin forestalled him with a sharp cutting gesture.

“It’s nae concern of yers what yer mother—or I—do behind these doors. But there’s a second bedroom through there”—he nodded pointedly through the connecting door—“and that’s where I’ll be sleeping.”

He planned to sleep apart from her?

Bull’s gray gaze darted to her, but Felicity closed her eyes so he wouldn’t see the sorrow in hers.

She heard the door close as Griffin escorted her mischief-making son back to his room, and she reached for the pillow, cradling it against her chest.

It smelled of him.

Shaving soap and sweat and something that was just Griffin.

It should be impossible for a human to identify another human by their scents; human noses weren’t as developed as a dog’s or a wild animal. Rupert had been quite clear on that during his monologue on the importance that he be permitted a dog when he became a duke’s son. It was impossible to know who had touched the pillow, but here and now, she would’ve known Griffin’s scent anywhere.

And the only place she had it was here, on her skin, on this pillow.

She buried her face in it and tried not to cry.

The fire wasn’t enough to keep her warm, not any longer.

And when she heard the opening and closing of the door to the adjoining room, she knew he’d kept his vow to Bull, and was sleeping apart from her.

You have slept alone every night of your life. Why is this problematic?

She didn’t know.

She didn’t know why any of this caused her chest to ache and her eyes to hurt.

What they’d shared had merely been a bargain, him giving her something in exchange for her cooperation with his mission. Right?

With a sigh, Felicity rose and cleaned herself as best she could, then climbed back into the large, cold bed. She pulled the pillow closer and inhaled, trying to trap the memory of that scent.

Her brain was a tangled mess, her emotions even more so. It was a blessing to fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Chapter 13

He had her fingernail marks on his shoulders.

Griffin had discovered them that morning as he was dressing, and the sight made him grin. But then he remembered how he’d taken an excuse to leave Felicity’s room—leave her arms—and his good cheer faded.

Aye, he’d emptied his ballocks. Aye, he’d experienced pleasure unlike any he could remember. Aye, he’d assuaged her curiosity and made her come more than once.

And then he’d left her.

Christ, he could still taste her on his tongue.

Just the thought of that miracle—and the look of wonder on her face—had his cock stiffening again. Grumbling to himself, Griffin readjusted his trousers and steeled himself to see her again.

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