Page 22 of The Duke and the Runaway Bride

“It sounds as if you are begging me to bed you.” Edwin smiled.

Beatrice gasped, and her face reddened. “I am doing no such thing. I only want things to be done properly.”

“As do I,” the Duke replied. “If I did not wish to have you in my bed, I would tell you, Beatrice. Don’t worry, I want to see your body, but perhaps when you are less confrontational.”

Beatrice put her hands on her hips. “I am not confrontational! I’m only… clearing the air. I don’t care one bit if you want me in your bed or not. I only want to know where I stand.”

“Or where you lie?” the Duke teased.

Beatrice shook her head and tried not to smile. “I am trying to remain civil.”

Edwin laughed again—she had looked so nervous while accusing him. “And I am trying to make you uncivil.”

Beatrice kept her hands on her hips and shook her head. “I am not in the mood for such games. Did you really have business to attend to?”

“Yes, I did. I have a lot of business to attend to in the coming months, and if I am not on top of it all, well… I don’t need to bore you with the details.” Edwin chuckled. “To go back to your previous point about mistresses, I thank you for your permission, but I don’t need it. I don’t need to explain my business to you either. And I don’t need to give excuses for things I don’t want to do. However, in this instance, I will indulge you.”

“You don’t have to indulge me,” Beatrice said. “We are married, and we are supposed to work together, are we not?”

“Perhaps we are,” the Duke replied.

“I don’t want to sit around and do as I am told. We both have lives to live, but we have a life together also.”

“That is true.” The Duke weighed her words. “When I went to your father’s house to ask for your hand, you mentioned something that has stuck with me. It is why you ran away from your first match, and it is part of the reason you didn’t want to wed Lord Mutton. You wished to get to know your suitor before you married him. In my case, that was an impossibility. However, I do have a lot of business to attend to, so I will grant you a week.”

“A week?” Beatrice frowned.

“A week to get to know me before I take you in my bed. I believe that is fair.”

Beatrice looked disappointed, but she quickly composed herself. “Yes, that is more than fair. Why are you doing this for me?”

Edwin stood up, and if she had been in the room, she might have backed up to the door. She looked like a little mouse, ready to scurry away at the first sign of danger.

“Come here,” he ordered.

Beatrice hesitated but did as she was told. She approached him cautiously, looking over her shoulder as if checking that there was still a way to escape him.

The Duke continued to beckon her over until she stood before him. He thought about ripping her housecoat off her right there, but he really did not have the time.

“I am doing this for you because I am a reasonable and honorable man, despite what you might have heard about me. I don’t like to have something I have not earned. I took you, but you are not mine. I want you to know who I am before I claim you, Beatrice. I don’t want you to do as I bid because you feel it is your duty—or worse, because you are scared of me. I do not need to bed any other women, only you. Do you understand?”

Beatrice’s cheeks reddened, and her breathing became shallow and quick. The housecoat was thick and wrapped around her from both sides, covering her bust, but her chest still rose and fell beneath, betraying her pleasure.

“I am not a savage,” Edwin added.

Beatrice was at a loss for words and could only nod.

Edwin wanted to send her off, but he needed a taste of what would come. He grabbed her by the waist, and she let out a small yelp. He pulled her into him, holding her tight, and his lips met hers without resistance.

The kiss was slow and passionate, his tongue working its way carefully into her mouth. It was not met by her tongue but with a moan. She brought her palms first up to his chest and then around to his back, her fingers digging into his flesh through his shirt.

Edwin explored her back, his hands trailing down to her plump rear, squeezing it. Another moan escaped her lips. His heart beat quicker, and his hands itched to move inside her robe and take her on his desk, but he had made a promise to her (and to himself), and he would keep it.

They broke apart, and Beatrice stood panting and looking down at her feet. She had not expected anything when visiting his study, especially not a kiss. Edwin enjoyed catching her unaware, and he enjoyed the look of submission on her face. Despite what he had told her, he could do whatever he wanted to her and she would not resist.

He was not a man who needed power, but he enjoyed having it. Perhaps the short time in his study had shown her he was not a man to be afraid of, and she would stop acting like a submissive mouse when in his company.

“You have one week to prepare yourself,” he reminded her. “You should get some rest. I like to have breakfast early, and I would like you to be there with me.”

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