Page 18 of My Dangerous Duke

“And she is cared for!” He boomed back. Xander held great adoration for the matronly housekeeper but he could only handle so much.

“Whatever she wishes aside from my heart she may have,” he retorted adamantly, throwing his papers into his attaché, “Therefore, she has nothing to speak about with me!”

“I sorely disagree, Your Grace,” Eleanor stated bitterly, announcing her presence.

Xander looked toward the door and nearly groaned when he took in the sight of his wife. She was adorned in a light peach gown that matched her complexion almost perfectly; the shade so identical almost made her appear nude. Her long, curly hair was arranged half-up, the top spiraled into a braided bun. Amber jewels hung from her neck and earlobes, matching her eyes.

Lust poured through him as he met her glaring eyes, and he did his best to beat it down with self-control.

“Leave us,” Xander stated gruffly to Mrs. Gaines.

This time, the housekeeper made no objection to his command and left quickly without a word.

“Eleanor, I am busy.” Each word came out clipped. Restrained. As if talking had become a great difficulty.

“That much is evident,” she retorted.

Xander’s brows shot up as he heard the steel in her voice. He hated how her passion ignited his own. Even when she spoke to him harshly, her voice seemed to have an immediate effect on his cock. He needed her to leave. Immediately.

“What is that you want?” He asked bitterly, forcing himself to look away from her. He also turned his body to the side, praying she could not see what she did to him.

“To have dinner with you,” Eleanor replied quickly, embracing her hands in front of her.

“No,” Xander stated quickly.

“Some tea, then.”

“No.”

“How am I to be your wife and Duchess if you do not tell me what to do!” She exclaimed, her pink cheeks turning crimson as her brown eyes narrowed.

Xander paused, accepting the reality of her words. He had given her no direction on anything, other than to lean on Mrs. Gaines. But, what else could he offer her?

“I am afraid that is something you will have to figure out on your own,” he managed to say, unable to take her fierce gaze any longer.

Having nothing else to say, Xander headed to the door, directly to her left. His hand made it around the knob before Eleanor’s hands pressed against his chest and pushed. The heat of her touch seeped through his jacket and shirt, searing against his bare chest like a brand. Arousal quickly followed- a primal need urging him to push her against the wall and claim her.

“You may not like me but I am not your prisoner,” she stated emphatically, “And you may not treat me as such no matter what you think of me. I do not know what barrel my father has you over, and I presently do not care. I do not deserve to feel the disdain you have for him!”

A pain bloomed in Xander’s chest and guilt poured from it. The urge to crush her to him, to kiss her lips again and turn those biting words into whimpers roared through him so intensely he had to stop himself from shaking. Disdain? Yes, he had disdain for her, but not for the reason she thought. At least, not anymore.

“I apologize that your father did not pick a more romantic man to coerce,” he found himself saying, “But I will not change my life for you, or any other. My life, my responsibilities are to this land and to my family. There is room for nothing else. Now, remove your hands, and let me pass.”

Anger glittered in Eleanor’s golden eyes as static seemed to gather between them, but instead of taking her hands off him, she gave him a surprising shove, putting him against the wall. His body responded immediately and he let out a growl as he bared his teeth.

“You may intimidate everyone around you, Your Grace,” Eleanor whispered, rising on her toes as she drew her face close to his, “But you do not intimidate me.”

She kissed him then. Not deeply or even with desire. This kiss was a symbol; a show of her strength and courage. She was saying she would not fall before him like all of the others; that she would not comply.

Eleanor then left his study without another word, opening the door and slamming it shut behind her. Alone once more, Xander let out a groan of frustration and stalked to his desk. With disgust, he threw his attaché down, fell into his chair, and untied his trousers.

Damn her,he thought, touching himself as he imagined her beneath him. His fantasies were vivid as he worked his shaft, release came quickly. He suspected it was accelerated by hisrage, and once he cleaned up, he grabbed his attaché and finally left his study.

“Are you ready to go, Your Grace?” Jared asked as they met in the foyer.

Xander threw him a commanding look in answer, and his valet quickly fell in step with him.

“Is there anything I can do, Your Grace?” Jared asked as they climbed into the carriage.

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