Page 20 of Seven Nights with the Wicked Duke
"When Simon told me of this ‘ere fight he never said I would be fighting some nob," the man said, his words betraying as a laborer.
"I do not think you have to worry much about my social status. Focus on remaining concentrated for the duel," Theo advised calmly, fitting his hands with the boxing gloves. He usually preferred to fight bare knuckled but bruised and busted knuckles were difficult to explain and with Magnus getting more suspicious of him, it would not kill him to be a little cautious.
"I bet it concerns me. I do not want any trouble if I hurt yer pretty face."
"The problem with you, my good man," Theo began in an amused voice, "Is that you jump often to conclusions. That is why," his smile dropped to be replaced by a sinister one, "You believe that I am the one most likely to get injured." Now he was leaning forward, looking down, smiling evilly at his opponent and didn't miss the shiver that shook the man's body.
"Ye’re that duke. The Duke of Hell," he said with a shudder of revulsion that caused Theo's sinister smile to widen.
"Let's get to it," Theo announced.
Both men loosened their clothes, until they were comfortable enough before they stepped into the ring. Within few minutes of the fight, it became clear to Theo that his brawny opponent was simply big for nothing. He lacked the balance and finesse that was needed to parry blows. It was now the reason why his opponent was now on the floor nursing his injured nurse.
"Are you alright sir?" Theo asked with concern.
"No thanks to you," his opponent replied bitterly, backing away from him to leave.
Theo heaved a heavy sigh of disappointment, loosening his gloves and pulling them off. He went to the small bar in the room and poured himself whisky from the decanter and downed the cup's content in one swallow.
The fight had done little to grant him reprieve from the turmoil of his mind.
He had no way of gaining a new partner that night, he had to make do with what was available.
After brooding for a while, he went above stairs. Joining in on one of the gambling tables, he sat reluctantly, his mind wandering as he tried to engage in the play.
"Fancy meeting you here Your Grace,"' A sweet feminine voice came from behind him. It was Annabel, the opera singer who had taken quite a shine to him. He had always avoided her, unconvinced she would be able to handle his own brand of brutal sex. But it seemed the lady was fearless to come to such an establishment filled with men in vary degrees of inebriation.
"I could say the same for you, Annabel. What are you doing here?"
"I learnt you are a regular here, Your Grace. I was absolutely sure I would enjoy visiting here immensely since you are here," she said with a wide smile, trailing her fingers across his shoulder and boldly slipping into his lap.
The darkness inside him roiled, happy to have another beauty to possess and Annabel was beautiful. The darkness wished to see her undone, her beautiful face slack with the pleasure he forced out of her brutally. Her eyes might not be the haunting green color that he preferred, but when her pale blue eyes dilated with pleasure would have to appease for now.
"Annabel," he said in her ear, his voice dropping to a growl. "I do not promise I will be gentle. I would be absolutely unhinged with the way I would demand pleasure from your body. You have fifteen seconds to make your decision, before you join me above stairs.
"I would love anything you do to me, Your Grace," she purred, looking up at him from beneath her lashes.
Theo immediately stood up, took her hand in his, and headed upstairs.
Yes, the darkness roiled, he had the beauty once again in its grasp and by the time he would be through with her, she would be thoroughly corrupted. He wanted to hear her screams of pained pleasure, even if her voice wasn't the one it truly craved. He wanted to watch her face as he pleasured her, imagining what it would feel like when it was another green eyed lady underneath him instead. The thought of drowning in her eyes as he brought her to fulfillment over and over again made him harder than he had ever been.
That last thought told him something he had been ignoring for long time. He had to keep Cecilia as far away from the darkness as he could.
CHAPTER 7
"Who should I say is visiting, miss?" the aged butler of the Emerton estate asked. He looked down at her, his face a blank mask.
"Tell the Duke it's Lady Cecilia," she answered. Her heart thudded loudly in anticipation of the coming evening as she didn't know what to expect.
It had been a difficult task sneaking out of her estate with her brother's ever-watchful eye on her but she had managed it and that was why she had come so late.
The man nodded and led her into a receiving room to wait and she took the time to admire the elegantly furnished space. The duke's home was well managed from the little she had observed on the outside and inside, his staff were doing a good job as well. The wood floors shone from a good polish and the air was fragrant with spices and something floral.
"His Grace will see you in the dining room, Lady Cecilia," the butler announced returning to the receiving room and she rose to follow him wondering why he would ask to see her in the dining room.
When she stepped in, she eyed the intimate setting and table laden with small portions of a variety of dishes that appealed to her eyes.
She had included attending a luxurious dinner on her list but seeing it in the duke's estate surprised her. She hadn't expected him to begin so quickly. She wasn't even properly dressed for the occasion and ran a hand down her simple evening dress.
