Page 39 of The Duke of Ruin
“Yes, you would. Don’t you want one?”
He focused on the fire, his face impassive. “I did.”
She turned toward him and moved closer, so that they were barely a hand’s width apart. “What changed?”
“I don’t think any woman would have me, not when she heard of my past. And I would never enter into marriage without telling her the truth.”
“I think you underestimate yourself,” she said softly.
He turned toward her, his gaze naked and vulnerable. “Do I? Then let me tell you the truth. I’m afraid, Diana. I’m afraid to marry again.”
The weight of her heart nearly buckled her knees. She surrendered to her desire and touched her sensitive fingertips to his jaw, rubbing lightly against his flesh and feeling the whiskers starting to emerge. She thought of her revelation during Snapdragon and whispered, “Don’t be afraid.”
A soft creak from the stairwell was followed by “Oh!”
Diana dropped her hand from his face and turned at the sound of one of the boys. Jonathan stood on the bottom step, his eyes wide for a brief moment. Then he rolled them back into his head and snorted. “You’re going to kiss like Mama and Papa.” He made an expression of disgust, then dashed to a table and picked up a handful of soldiers. “Good night!” He ran back up the stairs.
Diana exhaled with relief, then smiled, turning back to Simon.
He was still staring at her with a passion that stirred her soul.
“Diana.” He breathed her name across her lips a second before his mouth sealed over hers.
She returned her hand to his face and cupped it, then slipped her other hand around his waist, clutching him as he kissed her. His lips were soft and instructive, moving over hers with intent. This was different from Kiss the Nun, which had been a fast peck that had lasted perhaps a moment too long.
This kiss already surpassed that—both in length and intensity. That first kiss had been an awakening. This was a promise. And she wanted him to deliver on it.
His hands came around her, pressing into her back and drawing her tight against his chest. He was warm and hard. She felt safe and protected in the circle of his embrace.
He tilted his head slightly, and she felt moisture against her lips. His tongue. She’d heard of this kind of kissing, but had no notion how to proceed. Guilelessly, she opened her mouth and awaited his direction.
The changes in him were subtle, but she caught them. He held her a bit tighter. An almost imperceptible sound lodged deep in his throat. His mouth opened with hers, and he gently thrust his tongue inside.
The sensation was overwhelming. Desire burst through her. She curled her hand around the back of his neck and tipped her head back, giving him access to whatever he wanted.
What had been gentle and tentative was now strong and sure. He kissed her thoroughly, igniting a need she’d never experienced. Her sex pulsed as it had in Coventry, when he’d taught her to pleasure herself. She thought of that night, of that release, and realized she wanted that now.
This was nothing like her mother had told her.Nothing.But then she oughtn’t be surprised that she’d been lied to. She’d been nothing more than an instrument for her parents’ own ends.
Well, no more. Now she was living for herself. This moment and all the moments to come were forher.
She dug her fingers into his neck and met his tongue with her own, sweeping against his with delicious abandon and never wanting it to end.
The creak in the stairwell sounded again. Oh dear, what else had the boy forgotten?
“My goodness, I thought everyone had gone to bed.”
That wasn’t Jonathan. In fact, that wasn’t a voice Diana recognized at all.
Simon ended the kiss but didn’t release her. He looked over her shoulder and said, “We were just heading upstairs.”
“Well, don’t let us stop you,” the woman said. She sounded haughty and self-important, like so many people Diana’s parents chose to spend time with.
“Your Grace?” This was a masculine voice, and the pair of words he uttered sent ice spiking through every part of Diana’s body.
Simon kept one arm around her and tightened his hold. “Don’t move,” he whispered. “Keep your back to the room.”
Then he was gone, moving away from her, and she fought to keep herself from turning around. What she really wanted to do was flee up the stairs. If they’d recognized Simon, how long would it be until they recognized her as well?
