Page 27 of A Scarred Wallflower for the Duke
The sight of it did nothing to slow Georgina’s racing heart. One glimpse at it and she was back in that sitting room, with the Duke’s broad body over hers and his hands sliding up over her legs. Drawing sensations and sounds from her body that she had never imagined herself capable of. She heard her breath escape her.
“I should not be here,” she said suddenly. “This is wrong. Lydia—”
“Lydia need know nothing about this,” said the Duke gently. He put a broad hand on Georgina’s shoulder, and her will to leave disintegrated. “I only want to draw you,” he said, his eyes meeting hers. “And this is where I keep my things. But of course, I will not keep you here against your will. If you wish to return to the parlor, then we shall.”
Georgina sighed inwardly. The way he spoke to her… Sometimes, everything the Duke said seemed to be for the sole purpose of riling her. And other times, like right now, there was a genuineness to his voice that made her believe he truly relished her company. His voice made something heat inside her. And Georgina found herself sinking onto the chaise, as though her body had a mind of its own.
The Duke’s smile broadened, and she could see a faint surprise in his eyes that she had decided to stay. “Good.” He turned and locked the door. Then he crossed the room, tugging the curtains closed.
“What are you doing?” Georgina asked.
“Ensuring we have the correct light. The correct shadows.” He lit the lamp on the tea table, then turned to look back at her, tilting his head to examine her position, as though he truly were a portrait artist. “Now,” he said, a rakish glimmer appearing in his eyes, “remove your gown.”
“What?!” Georgina leaped to her feet. “How dare you? I should never—”
All the thoughts she had about the Duke’s decency and genuineness left her. Of course, he would try something underhand like this. Ofcourse,he would.
How could I have been so foolish?
She charged toward the door, but the Duke reached for her hand, stopping her. He tugged her toward him gently, sliding a broad hand around her waist. In spite of herself, Georgina felt herself soften in his arms.
“I told you I would make you a fine sketch,” he said, lips close to her ear. “I want to capture therealyou. And the real you is not some uptight lady of thetonin all her finery. You are so much more than that.”
How Georgina wanted to protest, to charge back downstairs and forget this had ever happened. But something about his words seemed to reach deep inside her. She had never felt like a lady of theton. Nor had she ever truly desired to be one.
“I am not sure it would be a suitable picture to give Lord Renshaw on our wedding day,” she said, her voice coming out softer than she had intended.
The Duke chuckled. “No. I do not suppose it would. At least, not if he knew who the artist was.” He reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, turning her to face him. “Perhaps it is best we keep this to ourselves.” His thumb ran across her cheek, as though it had a mind of its own.
“Yes,” Georgina said huskily. “Perhaps that would be best.” And she found herself turning back around, offering the Duke the row of buttons at the back of her gown. Her heart beat even harder, her breathing beginning to quicken. She could hardly believe she was doing such a thing. She felt oddly outside herself, just as she had at the night of the masquerade ball.
She felt him unbuttoning her gown with aching slowness. One button, then the next, the next… Felt his warm breath tickling the back of her neck. An ache began to bloom between her thighs. A part of her wanted nothing more than to lean back into his body; press her body against his. Her breasts strained against her corset, desperate for his touch.
But she did nothing of the sort. Apart from anything else, she could not bear for the cocky, self-assured Duke to know the kind of power he had over her. Could not bear for him to know how much she ached to feel his skin against her own again. Most of all, she could not bear for him to know she had been thinking of little else since the night of the masquerade ball.
Don’t be foolish, Georgina,said the voice inside her head.Do you truly imagine he does not already know how much you long for him? Look how wantonly you are behaving…
The Duke opened the final button and slipped her gown from her shoulders. Her scarred white arms were suddenly revealed to the light and Georgina instinctively pulled them close to her body. But the Duke reached gently for her hand, pulling one arm out toward him and placing a soft kiss on her wrist. He slipped his fingers through hers and led her back to the chaise.
“Sit here,” he said, gesturing to the end closest to the flickering lamp. His voice was husky, suddenly devoid of all cockiness. “Take off your shoes and stockings.”
Georgina could hear her breath thundering in her ears. Her heart was hammering so violently she was sure he could hear it. But she followed his instructions wordlessly, untying her garters and sliding her silk stockings down her calves. Then she slid back onto the chaise, her legs tucked neatly beneath her.
“Like this?” she asked. Her voice came out as little more than a whisper.
The Duke swallowed visibly. He nodded. “Yes. Perfect.”
For a moment, Vincent stood motionless, taking her in. Then, as though suddenly remembering himself, he moved to the sideboard on the far side of the room and collected his paper and pencils. He slid the armchair across the room until it faced Georgina. Took off his jacket and hung it over the back of the chair. In his shirtsleeves and waistcoat, he settled into the armchair and began to draw. A frown of concentration creased his forehead, his eyes darting back and forth between her and the page.
“Are you nervous?” he asked after a moment. “Your chest is heaving.”
“Of course I am nervous,” Georgina admitted. She had never felt more exposed, displayed before a man in her corset and petticoats, every vicious scar visible in the lamplight.
“There is no need to be,” the Duke assured her with a smile. “I promise I shall be a perfect gentleman.”
A laugh escaped her. “I think you may already have proven yourself otherwise.” The Duke grinned, his blue eyes sparkling. He turned back to the page, chewing his lip in concentration. Why did Georgina find that so alluring?
She felt her breathing begin to calm a little. Felt some of the panic leave her. While the situation was anything but normal, she realized she felt comfortable in the Duke’s presence. And she also knew with a deep certainty that, while he would always be one to push her to her limits, he would not do anything she objected to. The moment she wished this to end, she knew he would make it so.
