Page 28 of A Night of Passion with the Duke

“You do not?—”

“Am I understood, Arabella?”

“Perfectly,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Good.”

“Will you send up a lady’s maid too, or will you have me undress myself?”

“I will help you.”

Her eyes widened, and she let out a gasp. He, too, was surprised that he’d suggested such a thing, but he hid his emotions better. She turned around then, surprising him with her compliance.

When his hands touched her back, she shivered but then stilled.

His hands undid the strings holding her dress together, and for each string he loosened, his tongue got heavier in his mouth. When he was finally done, he moved to help her take off the dress, but she stilled him with her hands.

“I’ll finish up. Thank you.”

“Oh.” He swallowed. “Enjoy your bath.”

He wondered if she’d have minded him joining her in the bath as he neared his study. The image of her naked and flushed in the hot bath sent a sharp jolt of lust through him that had him stumbling. Before the door closed behind him, he’d seen the outline of her curvaceous form through the thin fabric of the chemise she wore.

Her generous breasts and plump buttocks teased his eyes and tongue to run over them. He’d shut the door before she lifted the garment over her head. If he saw her naked now, there would be no way he would leave her again.

He swallowed past the thick lump that had formed in his throat as he righted himself. He needed a drink and fast, anything that would put his conflicting thoughts out of his mind.

Sure as hell, his butler had already made his rounds, lighting a fire in the ornate fireplace and placing a bottle of his favorite Scotch on his desk.

It was things like this that made him overlook the man’s overbearing and downright snobby attitude.

Edward recalled how he’d ignored Arabella as if she were nothing more than a lady of the night he’d brought home. He could only hope she hadn’t taken it personally. Why the man would think so still amazed him when he’d made sure to never bring his paramours to his family estate. Apart from the fact that they’d turn needy, he didn’t want to disrespect his mother that way.

He’d been honest when he’d told Arabella that his family would love her, but not on all accounts. His mother, the Dowager Duchess of Soulden, would be ecstatic that he’d finally granted her one wish, albeit she’d be furious with him for not letting her be present at the ceremony or even in the wedding preparations.

For that, he was extremely grateful for the circumstances of his marriage, but even then Arabella had been unlike any other bride he’d known. She’d made her decisions fairly quickly and hadn’t been at all hysterical during the planning. He’d honestly been too impressed to give his input.

His brother, on the other hand… Edward shuddered to imagine how Charles, who’d professed at every turn the need to marry a woman of good social standing, would take the news of his surprise marriage. It would take a lot of convincing that Arabella wasn’t with child to make him accept the marriage. He knew his brother meant well, but…

Edward remembered his conversation with the Earl of Thorne the day after he’d announced his desire to marry her.

“Arabella is young and trusting, and she falls in love easily.” Leonard had warned him. “I don’t want her to get hurt. I know she claims she loves you, but I see how much her light has dimmed. If you don’t want to marry her, you can say so, and she’d survive it. But if you still choose to marry her, and if you hurt her…”

“I don’t intend to,”Edward had affirmed, not knowing why he hadn’t just taken the out the Earl had thrown him to escape this well of despair he’d fallen in.

He’d decided to stay the course and had finally married her. She’d looked so beautiful in her dress that he’d almost forgotten that what they had wasn’t real. If she were really his bride, he’d have been unable to stand still, waiting for her brother to walk her down the aisle.

The sermon had made him feel guilty, for he had put her through an ordeal he could have simply freed her from.

He let out a sigh and rubbed his temples. Why was doing the good thing so bloody difficult?

“Would you be in need of a hot bath too, Your Grace?” his butler asked.

It was only because he’d been used to the man’s behavior that he hadn’t jumped in surprise.

“No, Aldwin.” Edward waved him off, reading through the papers.

There were reports from the just finished barley and wheat harvest, complaints from farmers at the western edge of the property about the flooded lands, as the river had overflown due to recent rains, and financial reports about some investments he’d made.

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