Page 57 of Once Upon a Devilish Duke

He laughed softly, peeling the dressing gown off her shoulder, where it fell to the floor. “This is a very inconvenient nightgown.” He counted the seven buttons that closed up the neck.

“I needed some protection.”

He frowned. “Protection? From me?”

“Yes.”

This gave him pause. He stepped back and studied her face. “I would never force you to do something you did not wish.”

“I know that. I guess it was more to give me time to clear my head before things went too far.”

“You thought this out, didn’t you?”

“Only that I do not trust myself to make sensible decisions around you.”

He could relate to that. He was a man who kept himself tightly in check, usually, until she came into his life. He led her to the sofa, and she sat, watching him as he went to the sideboard and poured her a small finger of scotch and himself a larger splash.

“I do not know what this is either, but I do know that I want you.” He handed her the glass, and she looked at it as if it were poison. “It will warm you,” he said.

She sniffed at it then looked up at him. “I do not know what I want. I am not experienced enough to know, and that scares me.”

“There is a lot we can do to pleasure each other that would not cause you to lose your virginity.” He should stop this now, but he found himself picturing his head between her legs, kissing her there until she broke into a million pieces, and his cock strained against his pantaloons.

Her eyes grew large at his words, and she tossed back the scotch in one go, followed by coughing and spluttering. “Good God, woman,” he said, pounding her on the back. “You are supposed to sip it.”

“You could have told me,” she said in a breathless tone. Then she started to laugh.

“Rose?” And then he laughed too. “You had better go to bed before I start kissing you again.”

She nodded. Then she leaned forward and grabbed both sides of his face and kissed him. “Until tomorrow.” She stood and gathered her dressing gown off the floor and exited the room. He adjusted his pants and downed his own scotch. He welcomed the burn down his throat. So much for sipping.

Nothing had been settled between them. There was no agreement as to how they would navigate this desire they had for each other. He knew that if someone caught them, Rose would be ruined. He would have to marry her, and that would be a disaster for both of them. Rose Montgomery was going to be the bane of his existence for the span of time she stayed here, and he wanted it all.

*

Rose crawled into bed. Her body buzzed with pleasure she did not understand. It was an ache between her legs and a flush upon her cheeks. There was also a real fear too. Fear of what this could turn into. She knew he would not marry her, and in truth, she was not sure if he would be a good husband. His track record did not inspire confidence. Oh, but she liked his kisses, and she liked him, despite what she knew about him and despite the fact that she more often than not disagreed with him.

She was aware that her choice of nightgown had saved her. She should have gone still dressed from the soiree, but then Elsie would question her decision. Then again, the neckline of her evening gown would have given him the access he had hinted at. Staring up at the canopy of her bed, she sighed loudly and thumped her fists beside her on the mattress, aware that her body was still humming. Oh, but she loved how he kissed her, how he kissed her behind her ear that made her vision fade from the pleasure of it. If this was how she felt after a few kisses, goodness knew how she would feel after they had done other things. The thing was, she did not know what he meant by those other things. Could she trust him when he said that the things they might do would not affect her virginity? Was she willing to risk it? Or perhaps all of this was simply the scotch she had downed like the last sip of lemonade at a ball.

Rose turned over and stared at the door. Was he still in his study, or would he have gone to bed? Did he ever even sleep? She stared at the candle by her bed and hoped that the undulating flame would make her mind still and her eyes heavy.

When she awoke, the sun was quite high in the sky and she hurried to make breakfast. When she walked in, Edward was the only one present at the table, paper up as usual. When he folded the paper and saw her, he smiled. It was still a strange sensation, as he rarely did so.

“Have I missed breakfast?”

“No, there is plenty left.” He stood and reached for a plate, walking the five steps to be in front of her. “What is wrong?” he asked when she did not come forward.

“Nothing. I…thank you.” She took the plate and went to the sideboard to select something to eat.

“James, can you get Lady Rose some fresh tea, please?”

“Yes, Your Grace.” The footman left, closing the door behind him, and they were now alone.

Edward was at her side a moment later, his large warm hand on her waist, and when she looked up at him, he tipped up her chin with his finger and kissed her, pulling her close, and fireworks lit up behind her eyes. Her hand lay on his chest, and her fingers clutched his lapel.

She broke the kiss. “Edward, we are in the breakfast room,” she said, taking a step back.

“Are we? I thought we were in the garden. My apologies.”