Page 32 of The Duke I Wished For
“You’re going to regret attempting to take my?—”
Blake gave the man a good hard shove, watching as he careened backward, landing on the floor with a satisfying thump.
Daffodil let out a cry and he closed the distance between them, blocking Mr. Benson from her view. “I’m sorry, Daffodil, if I’ve upset you with that display.”
“No. It’s fine…” She touched his shoulder. “I…thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he murmured, not certain what she was thanking him for. “But before I do any more, I must ask, is Mr. Benson’s attention wanted? By you, that is?” Much as he knew she’d not been pleased by Mr. Benson’s advances, it was important that she say her wishes, express her feelings.
“No.” Her voice rang with a certainty that filled him with pride and resolve. Giving Mr. Benson a smile that surely looked more like a predator baring its teeth, he took two steps toward the man and hauled him up by his collar and cravat.
Giving him a good hard shake, he heard Mr. Benson’s teeth snap together before he stopped shaking him and pulled him close. “I am going to speak to Lady Daffodil’s father momentarily, and I will tell him about your inappropriate advances toward his daughter. You will get no audience with the earl after I’m done. What’s more, Mr. Benson, if I ever see you touch the lady again, you’ll meet the end of my pistol at dawn. And I am a marksman of the first order. Do I make myself clear, sir?”
He watched the color drain from the man’s face. Blake still held Mr. Benson’s cravat, and he used the cloth to drag the man several feet down the dark, empty hall before giving him another hard push back toward the ball. “Good evening and good riddance,” he barked before turning back to Daffodil, her eyes once again wide as she stared back at him.
“Blake?” Her voice wobbled as her hand fluttered up toward her face. He slowed his pace and relaxed his shoulders. Was he frightening her? That wasn’t his intent. If anything, he wished to make her feel safe knowing that he’d never allow a man like that to hurt her.
“It’s all right,” he said, forcing his voice into a smoother, more even tenor. “You’re safe.”
That garnered him the most beautiful smile. It was warm and sparkly, brightening her eyes even in the dim light. “Oh, I know I’m safe.”
Something deeply masculine filled his chest. What man didn’t wish for the right woman to see him as her protector?
She leaned against the wall still, her back pressed to the mahogany paneling, and he found himself reaching up a hand to rest on the wood just by her head, blocking her from the view of the hall, creating a cocoon about her. “I’d never let anyone hurt you.”
Her breath fanned out, tickling his cheeks as she tilted her chin up toward him, so open and inviting, he found himself leaning closer, his arm bending and his head dropping so that their faces were only inches apart. “You’re very strong.”
Those words only seemed to wrap about him, creating even more of a web of intimacy and fierce male need to keep her safe. Without thought, he reached his other hand up, and cupping her jaw, he let the velvet skin of her cheek slide under his fingers. “That’s the least I would do to provide for you, Daff.”
Her eyes grew wide again. “Really?”
“Protecting you, just like I protect…” He’d been going to say Clarissa, but he didn’t want her to think that he saw her like a child. He didn’t. In fact, his feelings for her were the furthest thing from that. “I would go to a great many lengths to see you safe and happy, Daffodil. I wouldn’t have asked you to be my wife if I wasn’t prepared for such tasks.”
Her sigh caught him unawares. It sounded…dreamy.
The contented noise of a woman who was very happy. It skidded down his spine, causing a riot of sensation.
Desire, satisfaction, a need to be closer to her. “I appreciate your help with Mr. Benson. And I must confess, I hadn’t considered that a husband’s duties might be so…physical.”
The words hit him square in the chest. Did she know the effect she was having on him? He tilted her chin up a bit higher. “As I said. It’s the least of what I would do to keep you safe and happy.”
“What…what would you do to keep me happy?” she asked, her eyes crinkling in curiosity.
Words rose up on his tongue but he paused, knowing that he’d come here with an agenda. Was this the conversation he was supposed to be having with her? He blinked, trying to remember what he’d hoped to say, but he was too caught up in the moment to attend the details. “I would provide for you financially, of course.”
“Of course,” she said, but a furrow appeared between her brows on her otherwise flawless skin.
“I would see you comfortable in our home, with good company and food and…” Had he just mentioned food? He wished she would tell him how strong he was again… He was losing the thread of this conversation.
“That’s lovely,” she murmured, her mouth turning down the slightest bit.
But it wasn’t. He knew it wasn’t. He gave his head the smallest shake. He’d almost prefer if Mr. Benson appeared again. At least threatening the man had given him a clear path forward.
Protection. That he could do. But sharing his feelings… Blast, but he was bad at this.
His eyes closed for the span of a moment as he tried to think of all he’d wanted to say. Clarissa’s promptings filled his thoughts and he blurted out, “You’re very pretty.”
But then he nearly groaned out loud. Had he really just said that apropos of nothing? Her tinkling laugh had his eyes opening again. Her crystal-blue gaze stared back at him, and he thought he might lose himself in their depth.
