Page 20 of A Beauty for a Duke

As she massaged, he realized her hands were rubbing exactly where he had felt some pain that had caused him to wake up. Her sweetness had no end.

Moaning, he grabbed her and said, “You’re mine.” And he tucked her under his weight.

Laughing, Sofie, said, “That remains to be seen.”

He stopped. “What do you mean?”

“Before I become someone’s property–”

“You’ll not be my property.”

“According to the law I will be.”

“You will not be my property. You are your own woman. With a sound mind. A gorgeous mind. You will make your own decisions. Whatever you want you shall have.”

“That sounds nice, Egan.”

“It doesn’t ‘sound nice, Egan.’ It is true.”

“I would like to believe that.”

“What do you mean?” He asked for a second time.

“It means that I need to learn a little bit more about you.”

“What more is there to learn? You’ve seen all of me.”

“Perhaps.”

“Perhaps?” He growled.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Egan grumbled loudly to the intrusion, “Go away.”

“If you please, Your Grace. A word?” An unfamiliar voice sounded on the other side of the door.

Throwing on his shirt and kilt, Egan plodded to the door. “What do you want?”

“There’s word of a large snowstorm on its way. If you want to be home by Christmas, you may want to leave now.”

Egan barked at the man, “Fine.” As the man turned to leave, he added, “Thank you.”

“Time to go?” Sofie asked him.

“Yes, but this conversation isn’t over.”

“I dared not think it was,” she winked.

It was a shared intimacy to dress in the same space and observe her morning routine, albeit an adjusted routine.

He could see himself doing this every morning with her. How could she not see it? Well, if she wasn’t going to accept his hand, for whatever bizarre reason, that meant she was going back to the tavern. For now. Andthatmeant he had better arm her.

“Take this,” he thrust his hand toward her.

“What is it?”

“It’s a pocket knife.”

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