Page 4 of The Duke's Wicked Widow
Think think think—
She couldn’t very well announce her identity, could she? Would he object if he knew who she was? Or would it make him more likely to follow through with the task? Better to keep him ignorant of her name, until…after.
“Ellie, sir. Mister MacMillan.”
“Ellie who?” he growled.
“P-Please, sir. May I speak with you?”
After another long moment, there was the sound of a lock being slid back, then another.See, you would not have been able to slip into his home, after all!The door opened.
There was a lamp lit, and its light was just enough to make Ellie drag in a breath—half startled, half awed.
Fawkes MacMillan wasbeautiful.Why had no one warned her of that?
He stood taller than Rufus with waves of auburn hair falling around his temples. His torso and shoulders were muscled, covered in swirling tattoos, and he had Rufus’s frame. But whereas her husband had always looked like a consumptive poet, Fawkes looked…
Like a fallen angel. Adangerousfallen angel.
The impression could have been heightened because she’d clearly roused him from his bed and he’d only pulled on a pair of trousers, which showed off the scars criss-crossing his muscled chest.
Or it might have been the wicked dagger he held nonchalantly.
Oh. Yes.
Yes, definitely the dagger.
Why would a chemist carry a dagger?Why would a chemist be covered in scars? How dangerous was boiling things in test tubes, really?
“Who are ye?” he growled a third time, peering behind her into the shadows. Looking for her escort?
Oh God. Was she really going to go through with this? “I—I told you. I am Ellie.”
His gaze returned to her face. With the lamp behind him, it was impossible to tell the color of his eyes, but she couldfeeltheir heat. “And what do ye want,Ellie?”
She swallowed, clutching her skirts in her fists. This was it. This was the moment. And she wasn’t here for herself.
Ellie lifted her chin. “I need you to get me pregnant. Now. Tonight.”
Chapter 1
Fine,perhaps she shouldn’t have beenquiteso bold.
Bold? No, that wasbrazen.
Wicked.
And awkward as anything.
Ellie felt what little courage she had slipping away as her husband’s cousin dropped his gaze to the bit of decolletage she’d allowed to show. When he met her eyes once more and raised a brow—clearly not believing her—Ellie swallowed.
“Would ye like to run that by me once more,Ellie?” he growled.
Oh dear.
It wasn’t that he didn’t believe her, it was that he couldn’t believe herwords. Her boldness. Her demand.
Despite her nerves, she was determined this was the right course of action. Ellie took a step forward, then another, until her hand rested on the doorframe. “I…” Goodness, her shirtwaist felt too tight; she was having trouble breathing, and that was without a corset. “I need you to impregnate me, Mr. MacMillan.”
