Page 75 of A Bride for the Icy Duke
Yes, this one last time of coming together. Pleasure and heartbreak combined.
She shuddered as he brought his fingers through her folds. “You’re fortunate you don’t make a mess the same way I would,”he murmured. “So I will have to wait for later, and you can indulge now.”
The way he spoke made her think he expected a later.
But of course, she reminded herself, he would not leave until the next morning. No doubt he expected to spend the night with her for one final tumble in the sheets before taking his leave.
As he slid a finger inside her, she tightened helplessly around him, wanting so much more than he had to give. She always wanted more. That was her curse, and he had fed it by being everything she had ever hoped he would be.
He buried his head in her neck as he worked her into a frenzy, reading her body as he had learned how to do, and when she crested and broke, her climax rushing over her with the force of an oncoming wave, all she could do was sit back and let it take her where it would.
All the while, Alexander held her through it, and she wished—she wished very much—that she could hate him.
When finally the last vestiges of pleasure slipped from her like water, she slumped against him, her forehead against his shoulder, her breaths too loud in her ears.
“I’m glad you are feeling better,” he whispered, brushing her hair back from her face. “I was beginning to worry that something was seriously wrong.”
She slid away from him, steadying herself on the carriage walls as she regained her seat on the other side of the carriage, pressing the back of one gloved hand to her flushed cheeks. “Everything is fine,” she lied. “I’m afraid I may have rumpled your cravat somewhat.”
He did his best to fix it in the dim light. “My valet will be annoyed, but I don’t mind in the slightest.” With one hand, he smoothed down his shirt and coat. Even in the shadows, she could make out the bulge that remained in his breeches. Some part of her thought she ought to feel guilty that he had not found his satisfaction. The other part of her triumphed in her revenge.
All that remained now was to keep out of his way until he left.
She most certainly would not lie with him and give him everything he wanted just before he deprived her of everything she wanted.
With a deep breath, she forced away the temptation to cry and looked out of the window. “We are nearly there.”
“Will you dance the first two with me?”
Lydia couldn’t quite bring herself to smile. “Not tonight. I don’t feel like dancing.”
There was a long beat of silence. Lanterns ghosted through the rain, and finally, her family home. A pang she hadn’t been expecting ran through her. Once, her mother would haveorganized balls just like this one, and she would have delighted at hosting. Seeing those lights took her back to the time when she lived there.
An easier time.
Alexander took her hand. “Truly, are you all right?”
“I will be,” she nodded, and squared her shoulders. “Let’s go.”
Alexander tucked Lydia’s hand in his arm as he ascended the steps to her old family home. Hers no longer, but he still felt as though he was intruding on her past, as though he might look down at her and find not the woman he had married, but the girl he had first met.
How had he not thought that attending a ball here might be painful? Even though she had assured him it wasn’t, she still looked around with eyes that were hazy with memories.
“Your Grace.” Lord Harrogate smiled and bowed.
“Lydia!” Lady Harrogate chimed to his wife. “I am so glad you could attend!”
“Of course,” Lydia replied. “I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.” She smiled, but the motion seemed hollow. LadyHarrogate noticed too, or so he assumed, because she tucked Lydia’s other arm in hers.
“Come and see Eliza, dearest. I believe she has some news.”
Lydia glanced up at Alexander. “Goodbye,” she murmured, sliding her hand from his arm and slipping through the crowd. Odd phrasing, considering he was certain he would see her soon—and if she was feeling up to it, dance with her—but he let the moment pass as he searched the crowd for Godwin.
Finally, he found his friend in a circle of men. As soon as he saw Alexander, however, he broke away and beckoned to him.
“I have something to tell you.”
Perplexed, Alexander followed him to a small corner of the large ballroom, beside a collection of hothouse roses that could not have been grown naturally in this weather. “What is it?”
