Page 25 of Taken By the Broken Duke
Juliet wandered the woods, savoring the lonely wildness of it. It distanced her from her Aunt, her cousin, and the man she was being forced to marry. She could pretend that she was back at Wetherby. Though that was not entirely a happy place either.
Without warning, she was stepping clear of the trees onto an open promontory. And the Duke was in front of her.
She stopped, frozen by shock into immobility. He was undressing, standing with his back to her, and with seemingly no idea of her presence. She knew that the proper thing to dowas to call out and then turn away. Allow him the chance to stop disrobing and to replace those clothes he had already discarded.
But she could not bring herself to do it.
It was wicked and wanton. He had removed his shirt, tossing it casually aside like some barbarian prince. His back was broad and pale, banded with strong muscles, but also marked.
Juliet frowned as she tried to make out the curious markings that made lines across the middle of his back from right shoulder to left hip. It looked like scarring. The wounds that had made those scars must have been terrible indeed.
He flexed his broad shoulders and Juliet saw the muscles ripple. It sent a thrill through her all the way to her toes. She bit her lip, unable to dispel the thought of laying her hands on those bands of strength, feeling them bulge beneath her touch.
Part of her prayed for him to turn. To allow her a sight of his chest, and… her cheeks flamed bright and hot at the notion of what she might see if he decided to remove his breeches. Did men wear anything beneath their breeches? If so, the garment must be tight and therefore revealing of any shape beneath.
Juliet’s mouth was dry, she bit down painfully on her lip, toes curling in her shoes at the images cascading through her mind. Suddenly, the Duke stretched his arms above his head, jumped, and bent in the air to dive like a sleek spear into the water below.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Horatio emerged from the ice-cold water, gasping for breath. He climbed atop a rock that jutted from the mere a few yards from the island in its center. He had swum underwater from the point at which he had dived in, exhausting his lungful of air.
The water had been dim, shot through by rippling bars of sunlight. The weeds that grew up from the bottom tickled at his stomach, hands, and kicking feet as he swam above them. Occasional dark shapes of hunting pike flitted in and out of his vision. As he sat upon the broad, sloping face of the rock, he turned to face the way he had come… and saw Juliet standing on the promontory from which he had dived. He swept wet hair back from his face, eyes narrowing with suspicion.
“Did you follow me here?” he shouted.
“I… most certainly did not, Your Grace. I wished to wander the woods for a time. It was preferable to my Aunt’s company,” Juliet yelled out from her side of the mere.
Horatio considered the answer. It had the ring of truth, and he had come to the woods for the same reason. That, however, did not mean that it was not part of the same scheme of the Godwins that had ensnared him.
“Do you wish me to leave?” Juliet asked, turning away.
Horatio realized that he sat upon the rock in a state of near-nakedness. He raised a hand, as though to cover his bare chest. Then he let it fall again to the warm stone beneath him. He would not cover himself when it wasshethat was the intruder. Why should he blush and run for cover? He opened his mouth to tell her to leave, that he might be returned to his privacy, when something stopped him.
“No. You do not need to leave,” he said instead.
“But you are… naked,” Juliet called out.
“Hardly. I have seen laborers toiling in the fields sans shirts and no one regards it as a scandal. Am I to swim in my shirt and waistcoat then?”
“Not for my sake,” Juliet replied. “Though I have seen farm workers at their jobs in the height of summer. They often remove their shirts.”
“And do you blush and turn away? Or do you admire their physique?”
Horatio was teasing her now, noting that she still had not looked back at him. He was wondering how long she had stood there for. Had she watched him undress? In which case, her modesty was entirely feigned. That thought was alluring. It made her seem wanton, which cast an entirely different light onto her virginal beauty.
“I did not. Nor did I turn away, I must say. They were not trying to titillate, merely to be comfortable. It would have been immature of me to make a fuss.”
“Then do not make a fuss now. Turn and face me,” Horatio shouted out to her.
After a moment, Julietdidturn, which surprised him. Her cheeks were bright crimson but she met his gaze steadily. He could almost feel her eyes on his body. It was as a physical caress. He deliberately kept his arms by his sides, hands on the stone, allowing the greatest view of his bare chest and ridged abdomen. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth at the game he played.
Theybothplayed.
For now, Juliet was meeting the challenge he had set, facing him, and refusing to look away. She also refused to let her eyes stray from his, making it clear that she was not looking at his body. Only his face.
“How do you like the Ravenscourt Mere?” he asked.
“Unexpected,” she replied, “I did not think to find a lake at the heart of the woods.”
