Page 31 of A Rakish Duke's Rules for Love

Soon, she backed away. “There…I think.”

Gabriel came to check while a thunderous boom rattled the walls, and the lights dimmed when a gust of air rushed through the room. He rifled through the stack, lips twitching when he came to the end. “Comedy of Errorsis beforeHenry the Sixth, Gentlemen of Veronais after theTaming of the Shrew,King John, Romeo and Juliet, A Midsummer Night's Dream, all wrong,Cymbelineis beforeThe Winter's Tale,andThe Two Noble Kinsmenis beforeTheTempestnot after. Eleven wrong, sweetheart.”

Rain began pelting against the window, and Anastasia went to pour a drink of lemonade, her gaze sly. “I told you, my memory is blurry.”

“Chess,” he spun the board to her. “And let us hope you are better at this one.”

Thunder rolled, and the sky flashed with jagged lightning as the sky grew dark, and the room got extremely dim. Gabriel paused to light a fire, and as the fire roared, he came to the table. “Your move, Anastasia.”

A shiver raced down her spine that had nothing to do with the sudden chill and everything to do with the man who said her name so sensually. She played, and he responded, and as the afternoon ticked away, the rain only seemed to get heavier.

The lightning had turned blue, and its jagged forks looked ominous. Gabriel checkmated her king, then sat back, rubbing a finger under his chin. “Eleven wrong with the bard and nine moves that I could see you made erroneously. Why were you trying to lose, Anastasia?”

“I didn’t,” she answered cheekily.

“You did.”

A shiver ran through her, not escaping Gabriel’s gaze. “Are you cold?”

“A bit.”

He nodded, stood, walked to the window, and peered out to see bad weather had settled in and didn’t look to be going anywhere. “I think I’ll have to give you two rooms. Please, follow me.”

Soon, he led Marianne to a guest room with the assurance that anything she wanted to eat would be sent up.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Marianne replied, “but I do think it might be best for me to be with Miss Anastasia.”

“I do appreciate your efforts, Marianne, but Gabriel and I need a few minutes to discuss a private matter,” Anastasia replied. It was the second time that day she had stopped her maid from doing her duty, and while she was regretful, she craved being alone with Gabriel even more.

With a nod, he took Ana to another room that was distinctly masculine with its furnishings, a giant four-poster bed and leather chairs. A thick rug was underfoot, and the room had a large marble fireplace. The moment she crossed the threshold, Gabriel had her against the closed door with his arms bracketing her head.

“You lost both games on purpose.”

“I’ll never admit to that. What is my punishment?” she asked breathily.

“For every wrong book and every wrong move, you owe me a kiss,” he replied, “and with every right one, I owe you a secret. But now, I want my kisses, all twenty-one of them.”

“That adds to twenty,” she whispered, already seduced by his hungry gaze.

“Does it?” He cupped her face and kissed her relentlessly, dragging his tongue against her. Hunger raced through Anastasia as Gabriel plunged deep into her mouth and slid hands over her hips.

He tipped her head back, running his thumb along her jaw and kissing the underside of her delectably dimpled chin. He moved his hand back down to her breast, freely cupping her breast and teasing her nipple through the cloth.

She gasped in pleasure and need as his fingers teased her aching nipples. He was everything she wanted. Ideas, unspeakable ideas, ran through her mind; her body burned to have his bare flesh against hers…but that would ruin her, and they were only a stone’s throw from discovery

Gabriel broke the kiss then rested his forehead against hers. “Hells teeth, Ana, the things I want to do to you.”

She looked deep into his eyes, his heart—and hoped, his soul. “You wouldn’t do anything I already didn’t want you to do.”

He groaned, “Those are dangerous words. Don’t tempt me, Ana. I want you too much.”

Gabriel kissed her neck, using his mouth and tongue to suckle and lick. Her low moan crested over him and urged him to move closer between her thighs, her skirts bunching between them.

“I can choose who I want,” she replied, “and I want you.”

He muttered a curse before kissing her again, pulling her tight against him, swinging her into a bridal carry, and placing her on the bed. Ana was scared and excited, her body aching for his touch but knowing he would keep her virtue intact. He pulled away to stroke his smoldering fire awake then returned to her side.

In this splinter of reality with just him, she was ready to risk a moment to know what intimate pleasure felt like. She didn’t want to think about consequences, didn’t want to think about tomorrow or any remorse that might come—she just needed him.

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