Page 25 of The Duke's Only Desire

“I’d like to spend it with my husband.”

He froze, only for a moment, yet long enough for his heart to somersault. “I’ve been away a good while. I need to ride out to visit the tenants.” But if she asked him why, he wouldn’t have been able to say. All he knew was that fate was laughing at him, because the last thing he could do was spend time with his beautiful bride. She was simply too tempting. “But you should make yourself at home here. Explore the house, meetthe servants, investigate the gardens—I want to give you time to adjust without smothering you.”

From the way her brow arched, she knew he was lying.Again. “I’d like to ride out with you.”

“I’d rather you stayed here.”

“I’m an expert horsewoman. My riding habit isn’t here yet, but I’m certain I could find something appropriate.”

So was he. That was the problem. She could don a burlap sack and still look stunning. “The snow’s too deep, the temperature too cold.” He shook his head. “You’d be miserable and bored stiff while I tended to business. It’s better if you remain here.”

He’d injected just enough finality into his voice to convince her—he hoped—without sounding too much like an arse. After all, he didn’t want to be a controlling husband. On the contrary, he wanted to remain as far away from her as possible.

As if purposefully antagonizing him, she took another step forward until she stood so close he could touch her by simply lifting a hand. Far too close for comfort.

“When will you return?”

He debated slipping off the desk and putting half the room between them, but he’d have to push her back to do that. Touching her was the last thing he could trust himself to do, even so innocuously. “Not until long after dark. You should plan on dining without me.”

She tortured him by taking another step forward, so close now he could smell the sweet scent of lavender surrounding her like a cloud and feel the warmth of her seeping into him. So close that all he had to do to embrace her was simply lift his arms.

“I would like to spend the first night in my new home with my husband,” she said softly.

He swallowed hard and repeated, “You should plan on dining without me.”

“And when dinner’s finished?” she whispered. “I think I might like to be kissed goodnight by you again, and this time be awake for it.”

His gut burned against the temptation she presented. “I told you.Youkissed me.”

“All right, then. I can do that, too.” Sophie leaned in and brought her lips to his.

For a moment, he was too stunned to move as his swirling mind fell a step behind his body, which screamed for him to yank her against him and take possession of her kiss, her body, her bliss. He could do nothing but let her kiss him.

Then, when his mind caught up to the sudden throbbing at his crotch, he called on every ounce of restraint he possessed to remain still as a statue. Every entreating caress of her lips against his was sheer agony, her hand resting delicately on his shoulder a torment, and when she touched his cheek in tender encouragement to return her affection, she nearly conquered him.

Nearly.He refused to surrender to the hell of loving Sophie.

She tried again to tempt him to embrace her, this time adjusting her soft mouth to a different angle against his, one that inadvertently touched the tip of her tongue to his bottom lip and sparked a hot longing inside him. But his resolve remained firm, even as her kisses grew ever more cajoling, ever more seductive.

A whimper of aggravated confusion tore from her and vibrated against his lips.

The sound broke him. With a groan, he captured her mouth beneath his in a kiss so fierce, so unexpected she gasped in surprise, only for her sharp breath to turn into a low moan of delight when his hands cupped her face. He held her head still while he traced the outline of her lips with the tip of his tongue in a gesture that proved far more possessive than he intended. But he couldn’t help himself. Just as he couldn’t help teasing atthe seam of her lips until she softened her mouth beneath his, parted her lips and let him glide inside.

Sweet Lucifer, she tasted heavenly. A delirious mix of sweetness, soft florals, and warmth that reminded him of a summer garden. Unschooled in kissing, she didn’t move to kiss him back as he explored the silky recesses of her mouth and stroked his tongue over hers in an erotic caress meant to both reassure and encourage. But then…he felt her lick tentatively back. Her arms rose around his neck, welcoming the embrace. No—inviting more.

Shay knew better. He should set her away and not let her get this close again, because a simple kiss had the power to lead to so much more. But he couldn’t bring himself to do that. Instead, he let her hand slide down his chest to fist his waistcoat, as if she needed an anchor in a storm. God knew he felt the same way and gave silent thanks for the desk propping him up from behind, especially when he stroked his hand along her spine and felt tremors stir in its wake. When he began to knead his fingers at the soft flesh of her nape, a trembling sigh left her lips and tickled over his, and she melted bonelessly against him. All the tension seeped from her body, and her mouth softened beneath his, receptive to whatever kisses he wanted to bestow.

Dear God, she was far too tempting, so he began to thrust his tongue between her lips in a steady, erotic rhythm that slowly built the desire inside her until it radiated from her. Each plunge and retreat into her sweet mouth mimicked what he longed to do to her body with his but never would. This was the most he could ever claim from her, simple kisses and near chaste embraces, fully clothed. He wasn’t entitled to more.

When she closed her lips around his tongue and instinctively sucked, he nearly burst out of his skin. A surge of heat pulled up through him from his groin, and soon the effect she had on himwould be too obvious to hide. Too many questions would follow, too many answers he never wanted to give—

Desperate to end the kiss, he tore his mouth away from hers and gently pressed her head down against his shoulder, where she panted to reclaim the breath he’d stolen. He buried his mouth in her hair and forced his own breath to steady and his pulse to slow. But he couldn’t escape her warmth, the softness of her body against his, or her delicious scent that filled his senses. Everything about holding her in his arms was both sheer pleasure and absolute torture, and he shook from it, and from the battle of wills warring inside him.

She lifted her head from his shoulder and brought her lips to his ear. “See?” He felt her smile against his cheek. “Kissing is so much better when I’m awake.”

That soft teasing undid him, and he finally found the willpower to take her shoulders and gently set her away, just far enough that he could slip off the desk and move away from her. Every foot of space he put between them was a blessed anguish.

“You should plan on dining without me,” he repeated, and damn his voice for being far more hoarse than he wanted.

Sophie stared at him, confused, her hand lifting to touch her red lips. “Shay…”

Her pained expression pierced him. He had wounded her, and he hated himself for it. But it was better to hurt her now rather than to devastate her later.

“The old Shay is gone,” he told her as gently as possible yet with a firmness she would know not to challenge. “The sooner you accept that, the happier we’ll both be.”

Then he turned on his heel and left the study.