Page 25 of Good Duke Gone Hard

He couldn’t drop it. “Please, Margaret. Tell me.”

She stood up in a huff. “I can’t just tell you, Jonathan. It’s too much. I’m afraid. You must know that we had a past. You’re allowed to forget it. Why can’t I?”

“Allowed?” He jumped to his feet. “Allowed?” His voice was growing louder. “This is not something someone permitted, besides the almighty in his great, unfathomable wisdom.” The sarcasm was dripping from him. “It’s not as though I asked for permission and he granted my request.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jonathan. And don’t mock. It’s unbecoming on you.” He watched her plop her hands on her hips.

“You can’t possibly think I want this.”

“Maybe forgetting isn’t so bad.”

He heaved a sigh. He wanted to hug her. He wanted to shake his memories out of her. And then he wanted to hold her until she didn’t have any more fear. “It couldn’t have been that bad.”

“You don’t even know.” Her voice trailed off, “You never did.” Tears that were threatening to spill retreated at the sound of her voice, “And you never will, Jonathan. Do you hear me?” She marched off in the direction of the horses.

Well, one horse. The one horse that was still standing under the tree was the one with the reins hanging down.

“Blast it all to hell!” Margaret directed her invectives to the sky.

Jonathan had so many choices at that moment. He could have pitied her poor luck. He could have scolded her for her folly. He could have raged back at her and left her to walk home. He could have berated himself for past actions that had hurt her. Or he could laugh.

He could laugh because he wanted her to laugh too. He wanted to feel the lightness in her spirit and see the sparkle in her eyes. He didn’t want to dwell on pain.

And since she was his muse, his joyous, full of life, impulsive and imperfect goddess, he barked out a laugh.

MARGARET WAS ENTIRELY DISPLEASED at Jonathan’s roar of laughter. The least he could have done was leave her alone in her misery and misfortune.

Instead he was wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. The next second his hands were around her waist, thrusting her onto the saddle. Then he leapt onto the horse behind her.

“Margaret, my sweet, peaches and custard, Margaret,” he breathed into her ear. “You are a delight.” She squirmed under the tickling breath.

She crossed her arms and harrumphed.

Jonathan belted out another laugh.

“Not in my ear, if you please.” She tilted her head up to the sky.

“Then where?” he said as he nuzzled the nape of her neck.

She would not break. The man was insufferable. Laughing at her affliction. What an abominable creature.

But that creature was all heat. All solid heat behind her. And when she had squirmed earlier, she swore she had felt his reaction.

So now she would make him pay.

Margaret arched her back, coaxing her bottom to rub onto Jonathan’s groin. She could feel his arousal jutting toward her. “It’s a good thing one horse stayed. It’s a long way back.”

Raspily, he voiced, “I left the reins down. Didn’t you?”

“Oh,thatyou remember to do.”

He lashed his arm around her torso. “You, Peaches, should hold your tongue.”

“Or what?”

“I’ll find a way to hold it for you.”

Her breaths started coming in rapidly. She needed to regain control.

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