Page 29 of The Duke and the Hellion Bride

“And please,” she cut him off. “Duchess? That is so... formal. We are married. Surely it is not too much to call me by my name? Diana, in case you had forgotten,” she chuckled.

He swallowed. “Diana...”

“There, that wasn’t so hard.”

It was harder than it should have been. A sense of intimacy that seemed to announce the situation in a way that Magnus had been trying to avoid. They were alone. Their tempers were frayed. She was baiting him, as if she wanted a repeat of what happened the last time they argued.

“Be that as it may,” he said. “From now on, you are to do as I request. Is that understood?”

Please. Let this be the end of it...

“No,” she said.

He groaned again, his eyes drifting, and his hands wanting to take her.

“We are married,” she continued. “And that means that we are to raise these girls together. I am aware that this is a marriage of convenience, but isn’t the very point for me to be a mother figure to them? For they need such in their life.” She raised an eyebrow at him, her expression becoming suggestive. “Unless there is another reason you married me...?”

“I...” He felt his tongue begin to salivate, his mind wandering to places he dare not let it. A growl escaped his lips, blood flowing south of his waist… “It is as I always said. The reason is a marriage of convenience.”

“As you say...”

It might have been his imagination, but she almost sounded regretful. Was it possible that Magnus had completely misunderstood her own feelings and intentions? That what had happened yesterday wasn’t a case of him forcing himself on her...

“Good,” he said. “I am glad we are on the same page, finally.”

It was subtle. And it happened quickly. But their eyes met, locked onto one another, and the intensity of that stare seemed to wrap around the two like a cocoon. Standing mere feet apart, all he had to do was reach out and take her. He knew she wanted it. He could feel it in the way she looked at him.

And oh, how he did too. And why not? She was his by right. She liked to argue. She liked to fight. Perhaps the best way to shut her up was by busying her mouth with something else.

Another groan escaped his lips. Magnus felt himself stiffen at the thought of what he wished to do. His body began to shake, hands sweating, the desires swirling inside of him so powerful he could hardly control them any longer.

“I... don’t do it again.” Magnus tore his eyes from her and spun about, intending to rush back inside before he did anything foolish. But in his haste, he stepped in a patch of mud, his foot slipped out from under him, and before he could do much of anything... “Wowa!”

It all happened so quickly.

Magnus went down like a bag of dirt. He was on his back, looking up at the sky, dazed and confused and unsure. Not to mention, covered in dirt.

“Magnus!” Diana cried out. She hurried toward him, reaching down to pull him up.

In that moment, Magnus did not think. His head spun. His pride was wounded. Diana’s hand reached for him, he took a hold, a pulse rushed through his entire body as if fire sprung from Diana’s fingertips and without worrying about consequences or what was right, he pulled her down with him.

Diana didn’t so much as resist.

Her body seemed to mold into his own as she fell on top of him. His legs spread and she found herself between them. His legs closed and she moaned as their lips met. His hands on her waist. Her hands around his face. His tongue opening her mouth and exploring her sensually and passionately and erotically because he wanted to taste every inch of her.

In the mud, they rolled. His hands moved from her thick waist to her thicker, softer rear. He grabbed and squeezed, and she yelped and then bit into his lip.

For a few seconds nothing seemed to matter. The fight they were having. Magnus’ determination not to succumb to his ravenous arousal. His promise that this was but a marriage of convenience and he would not force himself on her. He was not! He could tell at that moment that she wanted him as much as he now knew he wanted her...

Only then, as quickly as it had happened, it ended.

A stick found its way into Magnus’ back, driving in deep, forcing him to yelp and snapping him out of his sexually induced trance. He realized suddenly what the two were doing, how inappropriate it felt, even if it probably wasn’t. His hands all over her. The way he held her – forced her onto him. He was thirty-three, she was but a girl by comparison. Somehow, it did not feel right.

“No!” Magnus erupted and shoved her backwards.

“Ow!” she yelped as she tumbled.

Magnus was on his feet, blood pumping through his veins, breathing stagnated and harsh. He looked down at his wife in the mud, he felt a pang of disgust in himself for putting her there, he very nearly went to help her only to curb that notion because he did not want to risk touching her again.

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