Page 22 of Seven Nights with the Wicked Duke
She didn't leave her brother's tight hold just to go into another's.
"Yes, your highness," she joked. "Shall I also polish your boots?"
He sent her a hot glare that kept all other jokes in her mind.
"Come here, Cecilia," he ordered.
She raised a brow at his tone.
He called her as though she were nothing more than a hireling to do his bidding and while it irritated her, she found it intriguing as well especially the sound of her name on his lips.
"Why?" she asked.
"Do not make me repeat myself, Cecilia," he growled. "I told you the rules already and you are not to disobey me. Come here now."
She rose reluctantly with a pout and moved to his side of the table, wondering what he wanted to say to her that he couldn't from where she sat.
"I'm here, now what…"
He pulled her on to his lap with one hand, holding her in place with the other hand.
"Your Grace, this is hardly proper," she protested. "What if someone walks in?"
He speared her with a look and took a sip of his wine.
"I believe we are past the point of propriety, little mouse," he chided. "I already told my staff we are not to be disturbed."
She felt some unease leave her but she was still uncomfortable with the thought of being in his lap. She had said she wanted to do certain scandalous things but that didn't mean it was with her brother's closest friend.
"I have my own demands if I am to help you with the list," he stated suddenly, placing his cup down.
She hadn't exactly expected him to help her without expecting anything in return so this turn of events didn't surprise her as much.
"Of course," she answered. "What are they?"
He didn't answer but held a fork with a piece of fruit on it to her mouth.
She eyed the morsel and looked and him and he nodded encouragingly.
He was feeding her now? With his own fork?
She had felt earlier she had made a deal with the devil but now she could confirm that indeed she had. He was pushing her beyond her normal boundaries and she was powerless to stop him.
She accepted the morsel and he turned to pierce another for her as casually as if they had always done so.
"I would like you to model for me," he said. "I want to paint a portrait of you. Preferably nude. But yes, a portrait."
"A portrait of me?" she echoed, trying to understand what he had just said.
"Indeed," he answered.
"In the nude?"
"Indeed."
"You would understand if I refuse, wouldn't you?" she scoffed. "Why would I ever agree to such a ludicrous idea?"
"No one will ever see it," he answered, rubbing circles into her thigh with a free hand. His eyes followed the movement of his hand as though it fascinated him. "Think of it as another secret thing you and I share."
