Page 26 of My Demanding Duke

His gaze lingered on the curve of her waist, and Anna found herself standing straighter, her breath catching when his eyes met hers in the looking glass. The heat in his stare was almost dangerous, she thought with faint alarm.

She ripped her attention away from him, focusing instead on the task at hand. The sooner she selected her dresses, the sooner she would be safe, bundled back up in her staid walking dress.

Flustered, she said yes to nearly every fashion plate Madame Delacroix showed her. Within an hour, she had ordered almost two dozen gowns, as well as four coats, two riding habits, and a magnificent evening cloak of midnight blue velvet lined with silver fox fur. Falconbridge had completed the order—the cost of which Anna could not even hazard to estimate—by insisting that themodistecreate an original design for his new duchess.

“Something that really shows off her beauty,” the duke drawled, his gaze dropping for a split second to Anna’s breasts, “Nothing too low cut though, I do not like to share.”

Anna blushed, both annoyed and thrilled by his possessiveness. Madame Delacroix fell into raptures, promising to dedicate her every waking moment to the duke’s request.

Themodisteled Falconbridge away to show him some of her sketches, leaving Anna in privacy. She changed quickly back into her walking dress, glad for its thick material and high neck.

She exited the dressing room to find Flacobridge waiting for her on the shop floor, carrying several paper-wrapped parcels.

“Just a few bits that caught my eye,” he said, as he led the way from the shop out to Bond Street. A footman hurriedly relieved the duke of his burden, leaving Falconbridge free to offer Anna his arm.

“What say you to some jewels?” he queried, “Something with sapphires, to match your eyes.”

Anna resisted rolling said eyes; Falconbridge’s generosity was impressive—even touching—but he could not buy her affection.

“I am feeling a little overwhelmed,” she stated, deciding honesty was the best course of action. “I would like to return home; I don’t think I’d survive another hour of shopping.”

“Then home we shall go,” he replied easily, signalling to the footman to open the carriage door.

Inside the lushly appointed compartment, Falconbridge tucked a blanket around her knees, his expression one of concern. It was quite the feat, Anna thought with amusement, that the man could make her feel like a sensual siren one minute, then a dowager aunt the next.

“Really,” she laughed, as he muttered something about sending for a warming brick, “I’m perfectly fine. I am just unaccustomed to spending so much time shopping. Or spending so much money, for that matter.”

“Money is no concern,” Falconbridge waved her comment away with a gloved hand, “Though I am in agreement that the excursion was becoming tiresome.”

“Oh?” Anna raised a brow.

"I had an epiphany of sorts in the dressing room," he said, his voice low. "I realised I would much rather be removing your garments than watching you try on new ones."

“It would be more economical for your purse,” Anna stuttered, her words earning her one brow raised in amusement.

"Are you volunteering to go naked to save my fortune?" he queried, his expression wolfish. "As I said, money is of no concern, but far be it for me to deny your wishes, my dear. Though I must warn you, society might not be as appreciative of your economising as I would be."

His eyes gleamed with mischief as he leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear. "Perhaps we might compromise—extravagance in public, and whatever state of undress you prefer in private."

Anna felt heat rise to her cheeks, but found herself unable to look away from his penetrating gaze. What had begun as an attempt to divert from her discomfort with such lavish spending had somehow drawn them into an even more dangerous territory of intimacy.

"You are incorrigible, Your Grace," she managed to whisper, though there was no reproach in her tone.

"Only with you," he countered, pulling her against him, “And did I, or did I not, ask for you to call me by my given name when we are alone? I believe you take some pleasure in vexing me, my dear.”

Anna did not have a chance to protest, for he caught her lips in a searing kiss.

The world outside the carriage melted away, the steady rhythm of the horses’ hooves fading beneath the wild hammering of her heart. His hands framed her face with surprising tenderness, contrasting the ferocity of his lips as he deepened the kiss. A shiver of longing coursed through her, as she pressed her breasts against his broad chest. When at last he pulled back, his eyes burned dangerously with barely restrained desire.

"Say it," he commanded, his voice rough with longing, his finger tracing the outline of her swollen lips.

“You’re incorrigible, Hugh,” she whispered.

He smiled at the sound of his name upon her lips, before once again claiming her mouth as his own.

She would, Anna realised with a pang, say anything he wanted if he could just soothe the aching need he created in her.

Mercifully, the carriage came to a sudden halt, preventing Anna from offering to debase herself in a moving vehicle. She would have been flung across the compartment if it wasn’t for the pair of strong arms that held her.

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