Page 111 of A Duke in the Rough

Oh, dear Lord.Although her mouth was dry, she swallowed the air stuck in her throat.

She turned fully, ready to face him.

His head jerked in her direction. “Who’s there?” A beat passed. “Honoria?” Incredulity rang in his voice, reminding her of the traitorous glass.

“Y-yes. It’s me.” Her voice sounded like the squeak of a mouse as she forced out her admission.

He began to rise from the bed, but apparently thought better of it and pulled the linens up higher around his waist. “Is something wrong?”

She shook her head, her bravado completely gone, leaving her stumbling and shy. As if reconsidering, the small voice in her head called from a distance.Tell him.

“I—I wanted to see you. To give you something.”

“In the middle of the night? It couldn’t wait until morning?”

“No.” Words crowded on her tongue, refusing to leave their haven. As she coaxed them forward, she realized none of them were sufficient. So, rather than speak, she showed him.

With shaking hands, she tugged the ribbons on her nightrail and slipped it off one shoulder, then moved to the next.

“Stop!”

Heat flamed her cheeks at the one-word command, and she wasenormously grateful for the dim lighting. Tears welled in her eyes, and she jerked the nightrail back into place. “I’m sorry to have disturbed you. Please don’t mention this to anyone.”

She turned to leave, but a soft rustling from behind stopped her.

“Wait, Honoria. Don’t go.”

She felt the heat of his presence behind her and the brush of his breath against her neck.

His hand, gentle and warm, on her shoulder halted her. “You wanted to give me something. It must have been important. What is it?”

A fat tear dripped down her cheek. Knots in her stomach twisted. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does. If it matters to you, it matters to me.” He brushed a lock of hair from her neck, his fingers eliciting gooseflesh over her entire body. Even her nipples rose to attention, brushing against the cotton of her nightdress.

Heat emanated from him as he moved closer. “Something’s troubling you. Won’t you face me?”

The tenderness in his voice flowed through her. This was the Drake she remembered. The caring, gentle man she’d held in her heart and mind for eight long years.

And, oh, how she’d missed him. Turning slowly, anxious as to what she might see, she tried to keep her gaze elevated toward his face, but unbidden, it drifted to his lower body.

He’d wrapped the bed linens around his waist and held them in place with one hand. “Forgive my state of undress. I’m used to sleeping without a nightshirt from the Indian heat.” The lopsided smile she loved so much spread across his face. “Besides, I didn’t expect such lovely company.”

Unwittingly, she licked her lips.

He groaned. “Oh, Honoria. You have no idea what you do to me, especially when you’re standing there in your nightdress.” He took her hand and led her to a chair on the far side of the room—away from the bed and her destination.

She tried to form the words she wanted to say, but he’d thoroughly scrambled her wits.

He lit a candle on the table by the chair, then studied her face. “You’ve been crying. Are you certain there is nothing wrong?” He brushed a thumb across her wet cheek. “If someone has hurt you, I will have harsh words with them.”

As she gazed up into his face, even in the dim light, his affection was evident, and it gave her the courage she needed.

“I’ve come to tell you I love you. Still love you. To prove my love.”

No words could be sweeterto Drake’s ears. And although when he’d finally come to his senses heknewshe loved him, to hear her speak them aloud was bliss. Oh, he’d heard them many times before in his dreams, and like those dreams, she stood before him in dishabille.

But unlike those dreams, he’d stopped her from going further—proof his groggy mind had awoken fully.

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