Page 76 of The Scarred Duke's Bride
She peered out at him from beneath her fingers. “Nobody is described like that except for women of easy virtue.”
Eric laughed. “I do assure you, Freya, it is the best compliment your husband could pay you.”
She grinned shyly. “All right.”
He removed his hand and moved it to her inner thigh. “What secrets do these hold? No man shall ever know. Dark, secretive, hot…they hold you firm as you plant your oats or keep you out should you get out of favor. Truly formidable to be feared by all.”
Freya burst out laughing.
“Ah you laugh now, but wait until you are annoyed with me over something, and then you will understand the power of the inner thighs.”
“Do go on before you mortify me to dust.”
He pulled at her thigh so that her knee was bent and then ran his palm over it. “What a beautiful knee, especially when it goes weak.”
Freya burst out laughing. “I do declare, you are ridiculous.”
“I am honest and observant.”
“Well, that means you have spent a lot of time observingme.”
He executed an elegant bow while naked and sprawled on the bed. “Of course. I am always at your service, my lady.”
ChapterTwenty-Eight
It was easy for Freya to put the sword of Damocles hanging over her and Isabella to the side, confident that no matter what, at least she had Eric, and he would look after them. In any case, she was too occupied with immersing herself in everything that Eric was.
She found him endlessly fascinating.
He was so different from her father — the only man she’d ever known intimately — that it was as if he was an entirely new species. Every morning, after a night of intense lovemaking, he insisted that they take a walk to the village to give the tenants a chance to approach them if they wished and speak on any issues they had.
“I am not sure papa would approve,” Freya said tentatively when he brought it up.
He smirked. “Well, I am not him, am I?”
Freya smiled, shaking her head. “No. You’re not.”
She put on her sturdiest walking shoes, looped her arm through his, and walked proudly by his side as they went down the lane. He had an umbrella in his hand since rain was threatening, but for the moment, it made an effective walking stick.
He drew in a deep breath. “I love London, I do. But there’s nothing like this fresh country air to invigorate one’s spirit, don’t you think?”
She gazed up at him, a slight smile on her face. “Indeed. It is…quite nice.”
He beamed at her, and they walked in silence, arm in arm, shoulders brushing now and then. It was not until they were in the village proper that someone dared approach, and it was a small girl who broke away from her mother and came to stare with fascination at Eric.
“Wha' 'appened to yer face?” she asked.
“Heather!” Her mother seemed mortified and came running, trying to lead her away.
Eric smiled. “It’s quite all right. Heather is just curious. Aren’t you?”
The little girl nodded, solemnly.
Eric squatted down to her height. “Well Heather, I was sailing the sea when a great big sea monster rose up from the water.”
Heather gasped.
“He tried to overturn our ship, but I would not let him.”
