Page 16 of A Virgin for the Beastly Duke

“Then sleep well, Belinda,” Bridget said before leaving the dining room for her husband’s study, which she knew by now where exactly it was located.

She knocked gently at the door and waited. “Yes?” he called. Not giving him the chance to refuse to see her, she turned the handle and walked in without announcing herself.

His eye widened when he saw her enter, but then his brow furrowed. “Good evening,” he said, rising.

“Is it?” she asked. Cato emerged from behind the desk, bounding toward her. She smiled. “I suppose it is. Good evening, Cato.” He raised his paw and touched her hand.

“Did you need something?” the duke asked.

“Yes, Your Grace. You were not present at dinner, and I wanted to ask you the reason.”

He clasped his hands behind him and took a step toward her. She was tempted to retreat, but she had to face him. He was her husband.

“I had a lot of work,” he said, his voice low and deep, almost seductive.

Bridget swallowed. “Did your work ever prevent you from eating your meals with your family before you married me?” She noticed that when he faced her, he turned his face so the eye with the patch was away from her. She did not want him to do that.

“There is more for me to do now that I have the means,” he said.

“That is a very poor excuse,” she replied. “I think you are hiding from me.”

“How ever did you come up with that notion?” He took another step toward her, amusement quite like the one she had seen the night before, lighting in his blue eyes.

“I observed it,” she insisted, and he took another step. He was very close to her now, and she thought he was seeking to intimidate her so that he would not have to answer her questions.

“Your observations are incorrect.” Her face was at his chest, and she had to tilt her head back to see his face. His body radiated heat, and he smelled of leather and something quite like cinnamon.

Bridget stepped back. He followed, smiling. She took another step and the back of her legs met a chair. Still, he did not stop until his body brushed hers. Her breath caught and her lips parted. She leaned away from him and began to fall back into the chair.

His arm quickly came about her waist to steady her, and all she could hear was the sound of her heart pounding as her chest was pressed against him. Her cheeks burned a hot red.

When he lowered his head, Bridget closed her eyes, certain for something, though she was not sure precisely what.

Chapter 7

“Ishall be present at breakfast tomorrow,” Harry whispered in Bridget’s ear and her eyes flew open. She had thought that he was going to kiss her and anticipated it. But instead, he released her and stepped away. “I shan’t miss a meal at the table from now on. I would hate to endure your wrath,” he added, the amusement still in his voice.

“Well…good.” She smoothed her hands down the silk of her dress and noticed that he looked away immediately.Could he be affected by me?she wondered.

“My dessert was different tonight. Is that your doing?” he asked, striding back to his desk.

“What did you have?” she asked. His food was not supposed to be altered, only hers and Belinda’s.

“Lemon cake in some form of cream,” he responded, picking up a sheet of parchment and peering at it. That was the same dessert they had. “The food was wholly better.”

“I had Monsieur Paquin change the menu,” she revealed, tilting her head to study his expression.

“You did well,” he said, and those three words of praise sent her heart leaping. However, she did not understand why he had resisted the change for so long before her arrival.

“Thank you,” she said. “I… Good night, Your Grace.”

He looked up at her, holding her gaze for a moment. “Sleep well.” She thought he was going to say more but he did not.

“Cato,” she said looking down at the dog, “do you want to come with me?” He sprang up and began to wag his tail.

“You have stolen my dog from me,” the duke said.

“Did I, now?” She smiled slyly. “I did not know that I forced him to enjoy my company.”

---