Juliet giggled. “Do you truly?”
“I thoroughly enjoy kissing you, darling.”
She notched her chin, angling her head toward him, “Then kiss me now.”
Giles cupped the back of her neck and brought his lips to hers. A slow sensuous kiss followed as he brushed his lips over hers, then suckled at her lower lip. He pulled back, then moved to stand behind her, his arms around her waist and her back pressed to his chest. “The pond is good for ice skating this time of year. Do you skate?”
“I adore ice skating,” Juliet replied.
“Then we shall have to come back with our skates.” He pressed his lips to her cheek. “In the fall, when the leaves change color, this is the best spot on the estate to relax and view the wildlife. Spring is much the same as breeding starts, and one can often see mothers with their babes.”
Juliet wanted to ask questions but held her tongue as she did not dare do anything to stop him from speaking. She feared if she did, he would stop, and she would lose the opportunity to gain a glimpse into his private life.
“But summer is my favorite time to visit the clearing,” he continued. “There is a boat for rowing in the pond, and the fishing is abundant. Best of all, when one grows to warm, the pond makes for great swimming.” He nuzzled her neck. “I am going to make love to you out here this summer.”
Her heart skipped a beat, her imagination coming alive. What would it feel like to be laid bare in nature with the sun’s rays kissing her naked skin? It was too much for her to conjure an image, though she desperately wanted to know. She turned in his arms and smiled up at him. “Truly? We can do that here?”
“We are lord and lady of the estate. We can do as we please, where we please, Duchess.”
“Very well, then I intend for you to do as you said. I want you to lay me bare beside the pond and ravish me the first warm day of summer.”
He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You can count the days, love.”
Juliet graced him with a hopeful smile as she snuggled against him. Perhaps the magic of the holiday would shine down on them. Maybe—just maybe, they would fall in love.
Chapter 12
Dover, England
Clear River Run, three days later
December 23, 1811
Giles relaxed near the fire with a brandy in hand as Juliet sat opposite him, her focus on the cross-stitching she was working on. It had become their habit to retire to the upstairs private parlor each evening and spend time together before bed. Sometimes he told her wild tales, while other nights, she read to him. Last night she had sung to him before he swept her off to their bedchamber.
After their first night together, he had moved her into his rooms. He had no desire to sleep alone, and she quite agreed. He swirled the brandy in his glass as he turned his head to watch her. His wife had, indeed, turned out to be a pleasant surprise.
He could not help being taken aback by the effect she had on him. Each day brought them closer together, and he wanted to know her better with each interaction they shared.
More striking, he wanted her to know him. He had never before wished to share his past with anyone. Never desired to share his future either, but with her—he wanted to share everything. Even his heart. Not that he had a choice in that matter. The minx had absconded with it from the start. He just had not realized it.
His duchess set his blood on fire and his pulse to racing. She made him want to be a better man, and she filled the void in his soul. The way she matched his wit, teased him in return and countered his playful harassment of her kept him entertained.
She endeared herself to him all the more every time she spoke, each caress bringing him closer, every kiss making him crave her more. And their lovemaking—Lord, it was all-encompassing. Her passion met his, and her sense of adventure kept him enthralled.
Half of the time, Giles wished to take her sweet mouth with his, if for no other reason than to stifle her smart remarks. The rest of the time, he simply craved the connection to her.
He found her to be an endless source of amusement and companionship. She was not at all like the empty-headed misses of the ton. No, his Juliet possessed brains, as well as good looks and impeccable taste.
She was nothing like he had feared her to be. Nothing at all like his mother, or the other beautiful woman he had known.
Juliet’s beauty ran far deeper than her face. She was kind, considerate, and compassionate—she was everything good. Everything he wanted and needed for the rest of his days.
“Your mind seems to have wandered off,” Juliet said as she sat her cross-stitching aside.
God, he wanted her.
Desired her as he had never desired another woman.
Every time their bodies came into contact, passion engulfed him, sending pleasurable heat and shivers through the core of his being.
Giles gave into the desire presently heating his blood and went to her. “I was just thinking about how badly I want you.”
She set her cross-stitching aside, then came into his embrace. “Then take me.” She stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his.
His cock jerked as his tongue stroked hers, their lips moving together as one. He thought he would tire of her by now. No woman had ever managed to hold his interest after a few assignations. That is, until Juliet. He had now bedded his wife a half dozen or more times, and still, he craved her.
Giles had come to accept that she was made for him. Fate and God knew what they were doing when they brought him and Juliet together. It could be the only explanation, and he was eternally grateful for their foresight. He treasured her and always would.
Juliet loosed his cravat, then pulled it free before setting to work on his waistcoat.
He covered her hand with his and met her gaze. “I want tonight to be about you. Lay in front of the fire and let me worship you.”
She gave him a saucy come hither look, her blue eyes smoldering, then moved to stretch out on the rug before the hearth.
Giles’s blood burned with desire as his cock throbbed with need. Mercy, Juliet was stunning, and oh so tempting. He feared that he would spill in his breeches like a green lad if he did not take her soon. And yet, he was determined to go slow.
He removed his shirt before he unbuttoned the fall of his breeches and kicked them free. His small clothes soon followed.
Her eyes smoldered as she stared at his naked form.
He stood there, allowing her to drink in the sight of him while allowing himself some much-needed time to gain control.
Juliet pushed up onto her elbows. Her gaze burned into his as she said, “Do you intend to leave me fully clothed?”
“Certainly not,” he more groaned than spoke the words as he joined her on the rug. He made quick work of stripping her gown and chemise from her delectable body, then gazed at her.
The firelight cast her in an orange glow, her skin radiant, and hair spread around her. She put him in mind of a nymph—tempting him with the mere sight of her.
He fastened his mouth over her rosy nipple, suckling and lapping as he slid his hand between her legs.
She moaned and arched beneath him, greedily taking what he offered, and he reveled in her response.
His fingers found her curls at the apex of her thighs, and he stroked through them to the core of her need. She was hot and wet for him.
He wanted to plunge into her, to fill her and stretch her. To claim her and satisfy his own lust. But he would stay the course until she was begging and writhing with a need all her own.
He moved his mouth to her other nipple and stroked his finger over her moist folds. When her thighs fell open, he slipped his finger into the inviting heat.
As he stroked his finger in and out of her throbbing quim, he trailed fiery kisses between her breasts. Moving lower, he licked and kissed his way down her abdomen to the curve of her hip.
“Oh. Ah… Giles,” She rocked against his hand. “Giles. I need… more. I want more.”
Her breathy sighs and pleading words ignited his blood to the point of frenzy. Desperate to taste her, he brought his mouth to the tiny swollen pearl above her dewy petals and sucked as he stroked his finger faster. The scent of her female essence drove him near to madness.
Her moans became more desperate as she ground against him. “I’m… I… Oh, Giles. Oh God,” she cried.
“That’s the way, darling. Take what you want. Be greedy,” he encouraged as he slid a second finger into her tight, slick quim.
He stared at her as he pumped his fingers faster, harder. He trailed his other hand up to her breasts and rolled her nipple between his fingers.
She pressed her head back against the floor; her plump lips slightly parted as she moaned her pleasure. A cascade of silver-streaked golden hair fanned out around her, and her smooth, creamy skin flushed pink.
She was stunning. So sweet, and all his.
Giles brought his tongue back to the tiny bud between her thighs and licked her essence as she bucked hard against his mouth. Then he suckled as he stroked his fingers inside of her, driving her mad with passion.
“Oh. Oh, Heavens. Giles,” she pressed against him, her fingers tangled in his hair as she came undone. Her quim quivered beneath his touch. Her release washing over his fingers and tongue as it burst free.
“Yes, darling?” He said, his tone teasing.
She went limp. Her legs and bottom falling to the rug as her legs shook.
“That,” she drew in a shaky breath, “was very nice.”
“Nice?” He arched an amused brow.
She nodded. “Yes.”
He positioned himself between her thighs. “Then, I will endeavor to make this mind-shattering.”
She thrust her hips, drawing his cock deep into her quim.
He stared into her smoldering blue eyes as he thrust into her again and again.
She brought her hands to his shoulders and arched her hips, taking him deeper still. Her gaze bore into his as she moaned and cried his name.
Giles thought, this joining… his wife… being inside of her… was Heaven.
She raked her fingernails up his back, and he thrust harder.
He kissed and suckled at the flesh of her throat as he drove her back to the edge of desire.
“Ah… Oh, God. Oh, Giles…” Her moans increased as she reached her precipice.
She moved with him, her hips following his rhythm, her heels pressed into his buttocks, pulling him closer as she dug her fingers into his lower back.
He thrust faster, harder, until they were both panting and wild with need.
She tossed her head back and closed her eyes on a final moan as her quim tightened and throbbed around his cock.
He plowed into her again and again. His own orgasm tore through him, his seed spilling deep within her.
Giles pressed a kiss to her sweet slicked brow, then slid his cock free of her quim. He rolled to his side and gathered her close. For long moments, he simply held her and enjoyed the afterglow of their lovemaking.
“Will you always be faithful to me?” Juliet asked, her breathing still heavy.
He hugged her closer and said, “You are the only woman I shall ever want.”
Thoughts of his parents came flooding into his mind.
After what his mother and father had put their family through, he could no more stomach the idea of hurting Juliet than he would willingly go to gallows. Old wounds opened, anger seeping into his pores.
Both of his parents dishonored their vows, their family, and each other. Father had a string of mistresses he brazenly carted before Mother. In turn, Mother took on a stable of lovers and made no secret of it.
Their actions hurt each other a great deal, yet neither could manage to cease the damaging behavior. Mother would rail and cry about how Father carried on and the heartache it caused her. Father would scream and carry on about how Mother embarrassed and degraded him with her actions.
The two of them were constantly at war with one another and did their level best, from Giles’s perspective, to hurt each other. On the rare occasions that they were not fighting, they were frigging each other. For a few days, maybe even a few weeks, all would be well. Then, inevitably, one of them would stray into another’s bed, and the war would start anew.
It was not until Father was killed dueling one of Mothers many lovers, and Mother threw herself into deep mourning that Giles realized they had loved each other. And with that came the revelation that love could be toxic. It could destroy a person. Love could destroy him as it had his parents and he wanted none of it.
Shaking away the dreary rumination, Giles turned his attention to the present. In this moment, he was happy. He pulled Juliet closer and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I vowed to remain faithful to you for all of my days. On that, you can trust me.”
She turned skeptical eyes on him. “How can you make such a promise when you have lived your life as a rogue? In time, you may grow bored and old habits, as they say, are hard to break.”
Her words pierced his heart, for how could one argue with the truth? He blew out a slow breath, then said, “My lifestyle was not a habit. I lived as I did, as a means to protect my heart.”
Juliet worried her lip as she studied him. “What were you protecting it from?”
“My childhood was far from a pleasant experience. My parents were both fickle and unfaithful.” He pulled in a breath. “I made an oath to myself that when the day came for me to take a wife—if the day came—I would not behave as they did. Their love was toxic.”
“I see,” she said. “And now that you have taken a wife?” she arched a blond brow.
“I will cherish the gift I have received.” He kissed her deeply. “You can trust me, Juliet. Those days are behind me. I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my days with you.”
He nearly told her he loved her, but held back. Still, he knew it to be so. His duchess had his heart, and he was glad for it.
Now he wanted hers in return.
Chapter 13
Dover, England
Clear River Run
December 24, 1811
This morning, Juliet had awoken with a smile curving her lips. Last night, Giles had carried her to bed after making love to her in the parlor, then ravished her all over again before sleep claimed them. If that was not reason enough for waking with a spring in her step and a song in her heart, tomorrow was Christmas.
And she had arranged a surprise for her husband today.
It thrilled her that she had come up with a way to turn the tables on him. Four times now, he had surprised her. First, there was the ring. She held her hand out in front of her and gazed at the sparkling sapphire encircled with diamonds. That really had been too much, considering he’d known her for less than twenty-four hours when he gave it to her.
But she adored it and him for gifting it to her. The deed had softened her disposition toward him, as well as her heart.
Then he had followed up the ring by ferreting out her decorating scheme for the wedding breakfast and copying it at the church. After that came the hothouse flowers, then mistletoe in the clearing. In truth, he had surprised her six times if she counted his unexpected arrival in Olivia’s library and how he had awakened her passionate nature. She really ought not to forget last night’s gift, either.
Oh, the way he had explored her. It was wicked and passionate and left her a puddle of jelly. And then, he had done the best thing of all when he opened himself to her and shared that bit about his parents—his past.
The whole evening had been a delectable surprise. One she most defiantly wanted to return. And this afternoon, she would. Juliet strode toward the parlor, determined not to waste a moment. Giles had gone to his office, as was his custom in the afternoons, and he would join her in a few hours for tea.
She had to work fast if she were going to pull off her endeavor. And she would not settle for less than she planned. If she did, the effect would not be as significant, and
she meant to thrill him.
Juliet smiled at the maids and footmen awaiting her in the parlor. She had given the housekeeper and butler orders to send her a small army, then ordered them to keep silent about her request. It pleased her that they had done as asked.
“Your Grace.” They all bowed or curtsied as they greeted her.
Juliet strode deeper into the parlor, then nodded at one footman. “Close the door. It would not due to be caught or overheard.”
He moved with long strides to do her bidding.
Once the door clicked shut, Juliet turned her attention back to the line of retainers. “I suppose you are all wondering why you have been sent to me.”
“Have we displeased you, Ma’am?” A young brunet maid asked.
The older, more rotund maid at her side elbowed her. “Hush,” she warned.
Juliet waved a dismissive hand. “It is quite alright.” She cast a warm smile in the young maids’ direction. “No one is to be released from service to the duke. On the contrary, the lot of you are going to help me decorate for Christmas.” She paused for dramatic effect, then added, “But our work is a secret. You see, I mean to surprise the duke, so you must not let on. If anyone asks what you are about, simply tell them you are doing the duchesses’ bidding and carry on with your task.” She strolled down the line of retainers as she spoke. “Can you do as I have asked?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” they all said in unison.
“Good.” Juliet stilled and turned to face them. Her gaze moved to the far end of the line where two rather tall footmen stood. They were all tall, but these two had at least three inches on the others, and their forms appeared more filled out. “You two will go into the woods and cut down an evergreen. A fir if you can. Otherwise, any pine tree will do.”
The men nodded their understanding.
Juliet pointed to the corner of the parlor. “Once you have it cut, bring it in here and set it up over there.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” the footmen said.
She smiled her appreciation, then shooed them toward the door. “Off with you then. And do remember, this is a secret.”
Have Yourself a Merry Little Scandal: a Christmas collection of Historical Romance (Have Yourself a Merry Little... Book 1) Page 57