Page 68 of Secrets of the Marriage Bed
His bark of laughter came as a surprise. ‘Good try. You will climb up here and lie beside me in comfort.’
Shock rippled through her. ‘You cannot think to...’
Pinpricks of light danced in his eyes. ‘Think to what? Importune you? When I am completely at your mercy, drinking all manner of nasty concoctions?’ He huffed out an irritable breath. ‘Hardly. But if you insist, sleep on thechaise...’ He eyed it. ‘Be uncomfortable, for I swear it isn’t long enough to permit you to stretch out.’
It wasn’t. It was more chair than bed, she had discovered last night. And for some reason he seemed to be insulted. ‘As long as you don’t think I will disturb you, I am more than content to join you on the bed.’
She picked up his tray and busied herself putting it outside the door and ringing for a servant to collect it, quite undone by his teasing.
‘Turn the key in the lock, Julia.’ His voice had hardened. ‘If anyone should come at us, I doubt I could stand, let alone mount any sort of meaningful defence.’
Her heart stilled. Was that why he wanted her close? ‘Come at us?’
‘Put it down to a ducal thing. Pull up the drawbridge, down with the portcullis and all that rot. I do not like feeling helpless.’
She could understand that, having been helpless more times than she liked to think about. The idea that he wanted to protect her made her feel cherished.
Having locked the door, she climbed the steps up on to the bed which was more than large enough for two. She lay down on the dark blue counterpane sporting the ducal crest embroidered in gold thread.
‘You will be warmer under the covers,’ he commented wryly. ‘And more comfortable out of your gown and stays.’
Unable to face any sort of battle in her present state of exhaustion, she undid the tapes at the neck and waist of her gown and wriggled out of it. He made short work of her stays when presented with her back. It felt intimate and comfortably familiar. Something she had never expected to feel with this man.
She dived beneath the covers in her shift and lay on her side. ‘Happy now?’
He rolled over to face her. ‘Not quite. Lay on your front and I will massage your poor aching back.’
He’d noticed? ‘Your head,’ she protested.
‘I’m not going to be using my head.’ He rose up on one elbow.
She knew better to argue with a duke, and his strong skilful touch on her lower back was heavenly. She groaned her pleasure. But then the man was a renowned seducer of women.
‘Alistair?’
‘Relax, love.’
Love. So casually spoken. It could mean nothing. It could also be a sign of growing affection. A sign he was not the one she should fear. She wanted to believe it. With all her heart.
Her head warned her to be careful.
