Page 26 of Good Duke Gone Far

“There’s no winning with you.”

“It’s not about winning. In fact, I think I’ve made that point before too–”

“Don’t.” She knew it was equally patronizing, but she was so beyond caring that she did it anyway. Pointing her index finger at his chest, she said slowly, as if to a child. “Think whatever you want. Collect all the bloody points that you want. I’m going to bed. And you’re sleeping on the floor.”

There. That settled it. That settled everything. He thought she was selfish, inconsiderate, and garrulous. She thought he could stuff it.

And yes, the night’s arrangements were settled. It was all so simple. She would take the bed, and he would take the floor. He was a gentleman. Of sorts.

Yes, he knew how to be the perfect gentleman–

“Oh, no.” The two words were spoken so quietly that she wasn’t sure that she had heard them.

“No.” He repeated louder. “You’re my wife for one night. I’m sleeping in the bed with you. Put all the pillows and layers you want between us, but by my soul, I swear I’m taking this one night.”

Her heart was beating outside of her chest. If she didn’t cross her arms, she was certain her heart would just march right out of her and snuggle into him.

No one had rendered her speechless on so many occasions in such a short amount of time as Quinn.

The huff. The chin tilt. The swivel on her heel. That was all she had right now.

Except she also had a vexing smirk nabbing at her lips like a pickpocket? She slapped that hand away.

As much as she could, she would carry through with her end of the bargain. She went behind the screen to undress. She heard a light chuckle. Or was it a cough? She looked around her small space and realized she had no clothes to change into.I guess it was a chuckle then.

So what did she do? She couldn’t show an ounce of vulnerability. Slipping out of her dress, down to her shift, she left her outer layers in a heap. She often slept in the nude anyway, what difference would it make to do so here?

Apparently a huge difference. A massive difference. One might call it a tent-size difference, for that’s what greeted her within seconds of her emerging from behind the screen.

“What the blazes are you wearing?” His eyes could not pick a spot. She could feel them roving her body. The bare feet. Her neck. Her eyes. Her nipples. The thatch she thought was well hidden from view but was obviously not. His shifting gaze was searing hot, a conflagration. She could feel his hands on her waist, his lips on her neck.

But she would not let him touch her. That much was decided.

“I told you I’m going to bed.”

“In that?” It was all but a yell. The first time his voice had ever increased in volume. Or was that just the pitch that heightened?

A quick tilt of the head and then a saunter toward the bed should do it.

“That’s just bloody wonderful.” She heard muffled oaths beneath his breath, but paid them no mind.

Easing her way onto the bed, she pulled the coverlet up to her neck and sunk into the malformed mattress.

The sound of water splashing, along with a few more oaths strung together to make the longest necklace she could imagine, filled the room.

A knock on the door reminded her that dinner had been left out.

“Come in.”

“Are you and your wife finished with dinner? If and so, may I take the dinner trays away, sir?”

An unnecessary pause occurred while Quinn pulled on his ear. “Yes. Of course. Thank you.”

The barmaids took the trays and quietly left.

Quinn watched them leave, locked the door, and then stalked over to her. Standing at the foot of the bed, he said, “I’m so glad they came when they did, if only to remind me of my beautifulbride.”

With a fake yawn, he raised and slowly stretched out two fists. “Ah, I’m tired.” Nimble fingers began removing his coat. Buttons were being unbuttoned. Layers were being unlayered. Clothes were being unclothed. Everything was being dropped to the floor. Including her jaw. She slammed her mouth shut.

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