Page 19 of Taken By the Icy Duke

His sudden awareness sent a streak of need through his veins, tightening all his muscles and honing his senses. He could suddenly appreciate each silken strand of her hair, absorb thefaint perfume of soap and rosewater on her skin and detect the beat of her heart.

Despite his astonishing acuity, doubt lingered within him, unwelcome but insistent. He had vowed to protect her, not ensnare her in the complexity of his emotions.

What right did he have to take more than she had already given: her name, her reputation, and her future? And yet, the soft flutter of her lashes, her intoxicating scent, and her unwavering gaze unraveled his restraint, thread by thread.

She remained silent and looked up at him through lowered lashes, standing firm, giving no quarter. Her posture challenged him to come closer, and close their final gap. He caught the subtle tremor of anticipation in her shoulders. The moment stretched, raw and electric, as though they both hovered on the brink of something new and mysterious.

He bent his head, letting his breath warm the space between them. She did not retreat. Instead, her hands found their way to his sleeves, sliding up until her fingertips grazed the solid muscles of his arms. He felt a rush of satisfaction, a surge of raw desire that had nothing to do with duty or obligation.

No words would suffice, so he did not speak. He leaned in, brushing his lips against hers, a slow, deliberate contact that tested and tasted. She neither flinched nor demurred. Instead, she pressed forward, meeting him halfway, and he felt the slight shiver that consumed her body; an answering spark to the flame that burned inside of him.

There would be time later for all the questions they were not asking. Here and now, there was only heat and tension and the press of her body against his. In the hush of that lamplit chamber, they surrendered to the single truth that mattered: they were alone, they were bound, and at this moment, they wanted nothing more than to be close.

Diana’s senses exploded the instant Gilbert’s lips met hers, and all coherent thought dissolved into a heady haze of pleasure. She had braced herself for hostility when she confronted him about his past lover; had rehearsed angry words and steeled her nerves to toss accusations. Yet with one gentle, insistent press of his mouth, he scattered all the arguments she had carefully crafted.

She feared he had seen straight through her guarded facade. Did he sense how the blood raced through her veins, how the very scent of him made her feel warm and unsteady and overcome by need?

When she had offered herself in place of the imagined lover, she had intended only to protect herself, to ensure he would not humiliate her by straying. What she had not expected was the rush of anticipation flaring beneath her ribs, a strange mix of fear and longing that made her voice become soft and her limbs weak.

His full lips were warmer and softer than she had imagined. Although she had initially held her breath, overcome by uncertainty and apprehension, she soon found herself leaningin, drawn by a desire she had not realized she possessed. A quiet gasp escaped her as she welcomed the unfamiliar sensation. Any remaining spark of anger flickered and died, replaced by a tentative hunger that startled her with its intensity.

An electrical surge spread through her limbs and she vibrated from the intensity caused by the touch of his mouth on hers. She sensed the erratic gallop of her own heartbeat. It was almost frightening how eagerly her body responded to his.

The moment his hand splayed across the small of her back, pulling her closer, she felt a flood of tingling awareness, as though every nerve had come alive at once. Her mind reeled, trying to reconcile the austere, distant man she had married with this new, intimate presence that now held her so carefully.

He broke away from her briefly, his hands cupping her face.

“I did not intend for you to doubt me.” Gilbert whispered. Diana could see the sincerity in his eyes. “It seems I have failed at that. I apologize for not attending to my duties as your husband.”

Duties. His word sounded so formal, yet there was a thread of genuine feeling behind it. Diana’s breath hitched as he murmured into her open and waiting mouth.

“Perhaps, now is as good a time as any,” he whispered huskily against her lips.

She parted her lips to speak, but found no words. Instead, she reached for him, resting one hand lightly on his sleeve. He took her invitation without hesitation.

Leaning in, his mouth met hers again, tentative at first, tasting her willingness. She responded without thinking; just the soft pressure of his lips made her heart pound, and all her worries and fears shrank into the distance.

Her fingertips traveled up his sleeves, testing the firm muscle beneath, and she realized how near they stood to each other. They were so close that she could hear his heartbeat echoing her own. She had never been this near to a man before.

The newness frightened her just enough to make her tremble, but she refused to retreat. Instead, she pressed closer, answering his tentative exploration with a growing certainty of her own.

Their kiss deepened. She felt his arm wrap around her waist, drawing her close, and she dared not think of tomorrow or the past scandals. In this instant, the world narrowed to the warmth of his body, the firm press of his lips, the subtle scent of his skin. When he moved to trail his fingers lightly along the curve of her spine, she shivered deeply, her body vibrating with unexpected pleasure.

He deepened the kiss, and Diana felt a rush of warmth swirl low in her belly, a sensation she had only read about in forbidden novels. Her heart pounded so fiercely that she wondered if he could feel its wild drumming against his chest.

Somehow, the knowledge that he might only made the moment more intoxicating. All her carefully guarded composure crumbled, leaving her both vulnerable and radiant in her husband’s arms.

She would have gladly stayed like that, lost in the hush of the evening and the slow discovery of each other’s comfort. But then came a dreaded knock, shrill enough to slice through the delicate bubble they had created.

They froze. Diana pulled back, her breath unsteady, and saw in his eyes a flicker of frustration at the interruption.

Gathering himself, Gilbert stepped away, his gaze still heated.

“Enter,” he called out brusquely.

The door swung open to reveal Timmons, his face politely impassive. Diana tried not to flush too obviously, smoothing the front of her gown, and praying that the lamplight hid the brightness of her cheeks.

“Your Grace,” Timmons said, “a letter has just arrived. It bears Lord Leopold’s seal. The messenger was insistent that it be delivered immediately.”

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