Page 65 of Seven Nights with the Wicked Duke
"I didn't expect you to play fair, Your Grace," she told him. "I am rather surprised you know how to behave so properly. It is such a rare sight."
He bared his teeth at her and folded his arms.
"I don't think I like this side of you." He frowned. "It is rather dreadful."
"Your breeches, if you will, Your Grace," she told him with a smug smile of her own. "You set the terms. It is only fair you follow them."
"You still haven't told me how you won," he reminded her, but she didn't intend to. "I had all the right cards."
So far, she had had him remove his shirt and had been distracted thirsting after his chest that was bared to her gaze and then lost to him. He had demanded she take off her dress and she had obeyed, now she was in just her chemise.
Now that she had won again, it was all too easy to decide what to demand from him. He frowned, clearly a terrible sportsman who didn't take to losing well.
"Would you rather do the penalty, Your Grace?" she asked, smirking at him. "You do not seem ready to follow the rules."
He snarled and rose, taking precious time to undo the ties and buttons holding his breeches in place. Her breath hitched as she watched him and she was unable to hide her anticipation. There was also a degree of smugness, taking control from him. He had had his way so far in shocking her and making do things contrary to everything she had known without any warning. It was his turn to feel what she had endured all the while in his power.
He had introduced the penalty when she had delayed taking off her stockings, and she had removed them, not wanting to down the abomination of a cocktail he had made of everything on his sideboard.
The smell when he had hovered it under her nose had made her retch, she didn't want to imagine what it would taste like going down her throat. He had wanted her to take a tiny sip but her glare had sufficed to change his course of action.
"I didn't take you for a coward, Your Grace," she teased when he returned to sit.
His legs were a work of art, long and with a dusting of hair that was distinctly male. She didn't dare let her eyes linger too longon the part of his anatomy that jutted proudly from behind his drawers, but she had noticed and her mouth went dry.
He was too beautiful for words.
So distinctly male yet so delicate.
He had been carved delicately and lovingly and it hurt her to imagine that soon she would be without him.
His words had been ominous earlier heralding the end of their arrangement and she bit her bottom lip as they finally registered with her. Once they ticked the last two items off her list, he would have no reason to call her to him again and she wouldn't get to see him this way anymore.
Grief hit her as she realized how terribly she was going to miss the easy camaraderie they shared beyond the other things they did. It was one thing she hadn't found in any of the other men she had hoped to marry. Even hector who had everything on her mental list lacked in many ways in comparison to the man in front of her.
Now that she knew all she knew about him, she didn't know how to go back to being cordial with him.
He obviously wouldn't struggle since he had never lacked female company or excitability before her and he wouldn't do so even after she left him.
There were times she wondered if he would somehow feel the same way but she would see his easy smile and it would correct the false hope she had been hiding in her heart.
"Shall we play the next round?" He asked grimly. "Just know I do not intend to let you win again."
"Have you let me win before?" she asked smugly with a smile she struggled to keep on her face.
He frowned, eyes searching her face.
She laughed and cocked her brow at him.
"Are we still playing or have you surrendered to me?" she asked.
He nodded and shuffled the cards.
They played a few more rounds till she won again.
"I don't think there's anything left on me to remove," he told her.
"I think I could name something," she said with a pointed look.
