Celeste Bradley - [Heiress Brides 02] by The Duke Next Door Read Free Book Online Page A

day on a more benevolent note—
    The door didn’t move. Calder looked down in
surprise at the first latch ever to be locked against him in his own house. He pushed harder in disbelief. The door didn’t budge.
    If he was a cursing man, he’d be cursing now.
    He turned sharply and strode from his room, turned a forceful left and took the distance between the doors in a few large, impatient steps. This time the door gave in to his ownership. He flung it open to glare at the woman within—
    Who jerked her head up in surprise and covered her wet, naked breasts with soapy hands.
    Oh damn . His imagination hadn’t even come close. There she was, his bride, immersed in a great copper tub before the fire—bare, wet, gleaming, dripping in scented suds and succulent flesh—
    And more furious at him than ever.
    “How dare—!” She halted. It was his house, after all. Every damned stone of it, including those lucky ones in front of the fire that supported the most fortunate copper tub in all of England.
    She lifted her chin, though she blushed furiously—her cheeks were nearly the color of the pink nipples he’d spotted for a brief but memorable moment—and narrowed her eyes at him.
    “What do you want … my lord?”
    You. Now. Hot and dripping all over those sheets there and maybe a bit slippery still, just so that my hands can slide more quickly over your beautiful skin.
    If he’d thought she was lovely when dressed, he’d had no idea what was in store beneath the perfect, stylish wardrobe. He’d angered this outrageously desirable creature on their wedding day? Was he completely out of his mind?

    If he’d been a smoother man—like his persuasive brother, for instance—he would have said something charming, endearing, just a tad bawdy and certain to grant him entrance to more than just the door.
    Alas, he was only himself, a man without the inclination to make pretty words. How he wished he’d practiced more. “You locked me out.”
    No, that wasn’t it.
    He tried again. “This is my house and you are my wife.”
    All true, but hardly smooth, old man.
    “I can come and go as I please.” Wait, no. That hadn’t come out quite right—
    Let’s hope she’s too innocent to detect that double entendre.
    Her eyes widened and she blinked at him, genuinely shocked now.
    No such luck. Too bad. It might have been the best night of your life.
    Idiot.
    So be it. He ducked the flying sponge neatly and flicked suds from his sleeve. “I shall say no more on the subject. Pray take care not to lock my doors in the future.”
    He made his escape, shutting the door just in time to let it take the impact of a bottle of bath scent.

Chapter Eight
    When the door shut on her husband—her husband!—Deirdre covered her face with shaking hands and sank beneath the water. He’d seen her naked. How mortifying!
    Oh really? Is that why your nipples hardened while he stared at you?
    Naked! Completely! Vows or not, she’d not been quite prepared for that. Nor for the look of stunned animal lust that had crossed his expression. How dreadful!
    Dreadful? Is that why your hands are trembling and your knees are weak? Is that why you stayed where he could see you, rather than dunk or grab a piece of toweling?
    There’d been something dangerous in his gaze—something as possessive and hungry and as old as time itself. It seemed that under the fine, somber clothes and cool control, the Marquis of Brookhaven was a man, after all.
    And what a man! Had he strode forward and pulled her dripping from the tub, she feared she would have submitted from sheer female response to his sudden dark sexuality. With a shiver, she stood. Letting the water sluice from her body, she reached for the toweling that Patricia had left out for her.
    Even after donning a shift and pulling her wrapper
over her nudity, she could still feel the heat of his gaze on her skin. How was she to look at him the same way now? How was she to walk into the same room as him and