Page 52 of The Duke of Lies
“I’d ask how you can be the judge of that, but I gather you’ve been wounded many times.” Her gaze searched his face. “So many secrets.” The words were soft, but they hit him hard, like a volley sent across the water sending his heart rate toward the sky.
She lowered her eyes to focus on his hand, rewetting the cloth before cradling his hand in hers and wiping away the dried blood. “You won’t tell me where you’ve been the past six years. You won’t tell me where you were tonight. You won’t tell me who did this to you.” She fell silent again as she finished cleaning the wound.
Dropping the cloth into the basin, she didn’t remove her hand from beneath his. Her gaze found his once more and in the flickering glow of the lantern he saw concern and vulnerability. And something more he couldn’t name.
“I know you aren’t Rufus.”
His heart tried to leap from his chest and probably would have run away if it could. Instead, it was trapped inside him, pounding a frenzied rhythm and sounding a drumbeat in his head.
He tried to think of a response but there simply wasn’t one.
“Are you going to leave?” she asked.
“Now?”
Her gaze found his with dark intensity. “Ever. You aren’t my husband. I don’t know what you’re doing here or what you want.”
“I would never hurt you. Or Beau.”
“Somehow, I know that. But do you plan to leave?”
He heard what she left unspoken—that leavingwouldhurt them. “No. Not unless you want me to.” The words shocked him to his core, but he’d never uttered anything more honest in his life.
Her hand was soft and warm around his. It was barely a touch, something borne from necessity as she’d cleansed his wound. But then she put her free hand to his face, tracing her finger along the edge of the cut.
He waited, breathless, for her to demand to know who he was and why he was there. Instead, she merely stared into his eyes, and it was then that he recognized that unknown emotion buried in her gaze.
Desire.
His body leapt in response, every fiber in him screaming for her. But he did nothing. It was, apparently, enough, because she leaned down and pressed her lips to his.
The contact jolted through him like lightning blazing over the ocean and illuminating everything with a sparkling, wondrous glow. When her mouth moved gently over his, the sensation intensified, heating him to an impossible degree.
Her hand cupped the side of his head as she slanted her lips across his. He tried to hold himself back, to let her direct the kiss. It was, after all, her creation.
Closing his eyes, he longed to clasp her waist, to sit her down on his lap and plunge his tongue into her mouth, to taste her, to claim her, to show her how badly he wanted her. But he did none of those things. He held his breath as she kissed him softly, innocently.
Briefly.
She withdrew, and he opened his eyes to find her staring at him. “I don’t really know how to kiss. Was that nice?”
She… What? He’d thought of pummeling her husband many times, and wished he could do so right this very moment. After he railed at him for his stupidity. How could Rufus have been married to this beautiful, graceful, strong creature without wanting to kiss her senseless?
“It was very nice,” he said. “In my opinion. More importantly, however, is your opinion since you initiated it. Did you think it was nice?”
Her brows angled down. “Should I not have done that?”
“I’m quite glad you did it, actually. In fact, you have leave to do so whenever you like.”
Faint swaths of pink highlighted her cheeks. “I did think it was nice. But… Is there more? I know there is… I just—” She stopped herself with a shudder.
He wanted to ask what she knew but feared he’d spend the rest of his life hunting her husband down and doing more than pummeling him. “Yes, there’s more. If you want me to show you some time, I will.”
“Will you show me now?”
His body shouted in response, his fingers itching to hold her and his cock hardening with need.
“I’m not certain that’s the best idea. It’s late—”
