The Duke's Disaster (R) by Grace Burrowes Read Free Book Online

dismissing the maid. Then he was in the doorway, still attired for the day, but regarding Thea with a particular light in his blue eyes.
    “You did not linger in your bath, Duchess?”
    “I did.” Was Thea to have awaited him in the bath ? “By my standards, in any case. I also had something to eat, thank you.” She could not have said exactly what.
    “You’re fortified for the coming ordeal?” His lips quirked, as if he thought the question funny.
    Thea pulled her wrapper closer and resecured the knot in the belt. “Will it be an ordeal, Your Grace?”
    “You may trust it will not be.” He prowled closer, giving Thea a whiff of lavender and roses. “Not physically, but please don’t tell me I’m to briskly dispatch with my intimate duties, Lady Thea. We are bride and groom, and entitled to linger over our pleasures on our wedding night.”
    “As to that…” Thea crossed her arms and prepared to launch into her rehearsed speech, but when she looked up, the duke was there , right there before her, and all the air left her lungs. She hadn’t heard him move, and yet he was staring down at her, his gaze both amused and puzzled.
    “Can’t you trust me a little, Thea?” He grazed a single finger along her forearm, raising the fine hairs, and the tempo of her heartbeat. “I would have us be friends to this extent at least.”
    “Friends?”
    “In bed.” He drew the same finger back to her elbow in a slow trail. “I will take care of you, you may rely on that.”
    “Dote on me?”
    “And allow you to dote on me, a little.” He smiled crookedly, a different smile than she’d seen on him before. Warmer, almost charming.
    “We must discuss a few things first,” she managed as that long, tanned finger moved slowly over her forearm, from wrist to elbow and back again. She felt that touch right down to her knees, which should not have been possible.
    “We have decades to talk,” he said, gently uncrossing her arms, “and if you’re fretting over what’s to come, talking will not ease your worries. It won’t be so bad, Thea. In fact, I’ll make it as good as you’ll allow it to be.”
    “But there are matters…”
    As Thea spoke, Anselm slowly, gently wrapped her in his embrace, bringing her hands up to his neck, then settling his mouth over hers.
    “Later, Thea,” he murmured. “Now comes pleasure.”
    How could a man who stomped, smirked, and ordered his way through life kiss with such languor? Thea knew the meaning of melting bones as the duke’s mouth went on campaign, moving over her lips with such tenderness she could barely remain upright. Just a brush, a tease, a nuzzle, a taste, a sighing of his breath over her cheek, and Thea’s knees threatened to buckle.
    “Kiss me back,” Anselm challenged her. “Dote on me.”
    His mouth was doting on Thea, exploring slowly and thoroughly, and then his tongue…
    A man ought not to have such an appendage, and certainly not both a tongue and that other most troublesome bit of flesh. He could invite with that tongue, insinuate, flirt, encourage, and, God help her , arouse. Thea’s fingers sifted through his hair, her body curved into his taller frame, and her lips learned the feel and taste of a man who intended to dote on her to the limit of his conjugal rights.
    What on earth had she got herself into?
    * * *

    Noah’s bride was charming him, despite her inexperience, her starch, her uncertainty. Prior to marriage, he’d dealt exclusively with professionals in the bedroom, usually keeping a mistress, and occasionally sampling the charms of those other women available for a price. He was emotionally uninvested, and so were they, and he liked it that way. The bored widows and straying wives were for Meech to deal with, as were the messy endings and sad misunderstandings such encounters often led to.
    Noah’s partners were playing a part, and he paid them to play it well. They were to make him feel desired, inspire his lust, accommodate it, and