Stealing The Duke

by Michaels, Jess

  “A month,” she breathed, her gaze flitting to his lips. She wanted him to kiss her, and he would. To seal the deal.

  “For now you would live in my home, though you would move to the cottage once your sister arrived on the estate. We might be able to come to a discreet arrangement for more time if we were equally pleased by each other.”

  “And if you are not pleased with me?” she asked. “Would that mean your bargain would not stand?”

  He pursed his lips. She was tenacious, he could see. That would serve him well if it were put to use as his lover. But right now she was only interested in protecting her sister.

  He understood that.

  “In my sister’s name, I vow to you that I shall not go back on my word,” he said.

  What he’d said shocked him. He had never thought to invoke Anne’s name in promise before.

  He cleared his throat. “A month with me and that is all you will be forced to endure if you do not want more. The cottage will be yours. And the funds for your sister will go into an account that will be accessible when she is ready to come out in Society.”

  Marianne struggled from his embrace and backed away. Her dark green eyes speared him, holding steady, almost as if she could read him. He found himself wanting to turn away from that focused stare. To push away from it.

  “This is…it is a very unexpected offer. I never would have thought such a thing would happen when I decided to come here tonight. I didn’t even think you were here when I—”

  “Marianne,” he interrupted softly.

  She blinked as if she hadn’t realized she’d been speaking in a stream of consciousness. “Why would you be willing to give so much to get so little?”

  “I don’t know.” He hesitated because he had not meant to be so…honest in his response. Something in this woman brought that out in him, as much as she brought out the need he had suppressed for so long.

  “You don’t know?” she repeated, her tone thick with incredulity. “I think you are the kind of man who always knows exactly what you are doing.”

  He frowned. Yes, he had always been precisely that. Until tonight, it seemed. He pressed his lips together. “Are you saying you don’t want the bargain, my lady? It is no harm to me either way.”

  She blanched and said, “I-I didn’t say that.”

  He shrugged. “All I know is that I want you. And since wanting anything is a rare enough occasion for me, I find I’m willing to pay a great deal for the pleasure of indulging myself. Will you take my offer or no?”

  She licked her lips again and his cock throbbed as he waited for her to respond. Then, slowly, she nodded. “I would be a fool to refuse such a generous offer. Especially since there will be no generosity to come from any other party. Do you…will you hurt me?”

  He stared at her, horror filling him. “No. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  She let out her breath. “I suppose I have no other choice but to take that promise at its face. Y-Yes, Your Grace. I will do as you ask.”

  There was a great rush of relief that flooded his throbbing body. With a groan, he stepped forward, slid his hands across her cheeks to cup her face and dropped his lips down on hers.

  By the way she stiffened and gasped, he could tell she was shocked. He waited for her to pull back, to turn her face so she could no longer feel his scarred lips on her soft and pliable ones.

  But to his surprise, she didn’t do that. Instead she slowly relaxed in his arms. Her hands reached up to grip his forearms, and when his tongue swept across her lips, she opened to him with a shiver of surrender and desire. He greedily took what she offered, driving his tongue against hers, memorizing the sweet flavor of her mouth that matched the scent of her skin.

  Want throbbed through him, driving him to fantasies of pushing her back against the office door, lifting her skirts and taking her then and there. But he didn’t. That wasn’t the bargain. And if he was going to claim the prize of her innocence, he had to restrain himself from being the beast he was.

  As difficult as that was, he forced himself to step away from her. She was trembling as she stared at him, her eyes glazed with shock and wanting, her hands shaking at her sides.

  But she didn’t run. She didn’t turn away.

  It had been a very long time since someone had stood their ground with him.

  “I will fetch you tomorrow afternoon for the trip to Avondale,” he said. “That should give you enough time to make your excuses and arrangements, I would think.”

  Her lips parted. “Tomorrow?”

  He arched a brow. “Your month started the moment I kissed you, Lady Marianne. Are you going back on our arrangement already?”

  She pressed her lips together, thinning them. “Of course not. I will do my best to make all preparations before your arrival, Your Grace.”

  “See that you do,” he said, his tone sharp to cover up any emotions this arrangement, this exchange, had inspired in him. “You may go.”

  Her brow wrinkled as if she were confused, then she nodded. “Yes.”

  She turned and slowly approached his desk, setting his sister’s brooch on the surface before she left his office. He did not follow, as much as he wanted to see if she would now leave through his front door like a guest or his window like a beautiful thief in the night.

  Once she was gone, he let out the breath he’d felt like he’d been holding the entire time they were in the room together. He moved toward the desk, staring at the brooch as he neared it. The miniature along the top had been fashioned to look like Anne, something he had commissioned the year she turned sixteen.

  It felt like a lifetime ago when he’d done it. When he’d still been a good brother, had the opportunity to be a good man. When Anne was still alive, when he could see her face and hear her laughter any time he desired to do so.

  He touched the brooch, pain rising up in him as he did so. Anne had been the last person who loved him. The last person who thought he deserved such emotion and connection. If she were here to know the bargain he’d just made with the Earl of Martingale’s daughter, she would look at him with such horror and contempt.

  He shook his head and turned away from the pin. He had made his bargain. It would not last long. Once a month was over, he would likely be finished with his desire for Marianne and she would be well pleased to be rid of him. That would be the end of it. He would go back to being alone.

  Just as he deserved to be.

  Marianne had not slept a wink since her encounter with the Duke of Avondale. She felt the effects as she trudged down the stairs to the parlor, where she would break the news of her departure to Juliet. The rest of the household staff already knew. They had been ordered to make arrangements for their move to Avondale’s cottage in a month’s time.

  She would never forget the look on her butler’s face when she’d told him. He had stared at her like she had sprung a second head, and he didn’t even know the worst of it.

  That she was trading her body for Juliet’s future. A bargain where she would surely gain more than Avondale would. Her freedom was a high cost for whatever small amount of pleasure she might bring to him.

  Now, her own pleasure? That was another story. She had not had a moment pass since she left his home where she didn’t think of that searing kiss between them. Her lips still burned with the memory and with anticipation of what else the sinfully seductive and obviously experienced duke could do to her.

  She entered the parlor to find Juliet sitting with her governess. Miss Bennett had already heard the news, and Marianne had asked her to stand by to help comfort Juliet. There would be little time for Marianne to do so, herself. The Duke of Avondale had already sent word he would come for her shortly.

  “You have been busy this morning,” Juliet said as she crossed the room to kiss Marianne’s cheek. “I didn’t see you at breakfast.”

  Marianne smiled and shot Miss Bennett a look. The governess nodded as if underst
anding to be ready. “Yes, I have been busy, poppin,” Marianne said. “You see, I must…I must go away for a little while.”

  Juliet took a step back and stared up at her in confusion. “Go—go away?” she repeated. “But…but why? Where? For how long?”

  Marianne took her sister’s hand and led her to the settee. “Don’t be upset, darling. You know that we cannot stay in this house for long thanks to Cousin Samuel. I have found us a situation in the country where I hope we will be happy, but I must go ahead to take care of some business before you can join me.”

  “In the country?” Juliet repeated.

  Marianne forced a smile to her face as she nodded. “Oh yes. A lovely cottage!”

  She hoped that part was true. God, she hoped this entire bargain would lead to happiness and comfort for her sister.

  Juliet gave a look to Miss Bennett and then worried her lip. “How long will you be away?”

  “A month is all, and then you will join me,” Marianne said. She reached for her sister, but Juliet stepped out of the way.

  “A month is a very long time!” she gasped out. “I don’t want you to go away for so long.”

  “I know, but—”

  “I don’t want you to go away at all!” Juliet said, her eyes filling with tears before she bolted from the room and up the stairway toward her chamber.

  Marianne let out a sigh as she glanced at the clock on the mantel. The duke would be here at any moment. There was no time to pursue Juliet and try to make it right between them.

  Miss Bennett rose and came toward her. “I will talk to her, my lady,” she said kindly. “I’ll help her see that you are doing what you think is best for her. That you are…sacrificing for her.”

  Marianne blinked at Miss Bennett’s tone and looked at her closely. The servants would certainly have their theories and opinions about this sudden decision, especially once Avondale’s carriage pulled up to collect her. Certainly, none of those could be worse than the truth of what she was doing.

  “Do you think I’m doing the right thing?” she whispered.

  Miss Bennett’s smile softened. She was of an age to Marianne, and there was a friendliness they had always maintained. “Sometimes what is best may not be what others would consider right. I know you love your sister and you would surrender a great deal to help her.”

  Marianne nodded. “I would.”

  Of course, at present the idea of a month with Avondale didn’t feel like the biggest sacrifice in the world to her. Not if his kisses were as melting as last night’s had been.

  “A carriage just pulled up,” Miss Bennett said, making Marianne turn toward the window. It was a fine carriage, indeed, with Avondale’s crest huge and blatant on the side.

  “Oh God,” Marianne whispered.

  “I’ll go up and see if I can talk to Juliet.”

  Marianne nodded, tears jumping to her eyes. “Take care of her. And if there is any problem, if Samuel tries to remove you before it is time to join us…please contact me immediately.”

  “I will,” Miss Bennett said, and exited the room just as Avondale entered, Marianne’s butler trailing behind with yet another judgmental expression on his face.

  “The Duke of—” he began to announce.

  Avondale held up a hand and his lips set into a thin line that highlighted the whiteness of the scar across them. “She knows who I am. Leave us.”

  Marianne was surprised when her butler did not look to her for verification of Avondale’s heavy-handed order, but simply left as he’d been told. She folded her arms and stared at the man.

  He was incredibly handsome in daylight. Even more handsome than she had remembered. That scar that slashed his face only made her pay closer attention to his bright eyes, his high cheekbones and his full lips. Those lips that had covered hers not long ago.

  “Are you prepared?” he said, his gaze never leaving hers.

  She struggled to recall how to speak and finally simply nodded.

  He inclined his head slightly. “Then we should go.”

  “I’ll call for my maid,” she said, moving toward the pull by the door.

  He stepped to the side, blocking her path with his big body. She had to come up short to keep from crashing right into his broad chest. She looked up, feeling her lips tremble, her entire body tremble.

  “There is a carriage coming to your back door to collect your things. Your maid can ride in it,” he said, his tone brooking no refusal.

  She wrinkled her brow. “But…but that would mean you and I would ride alone together.”

  His lips tilted up further. “Oh yes, it does.”

  She caught her breath at the wickedness of his expression. It did something physical to her, something that made her bones liquid and heat spread through her veins. It was intoxicating and terrifying at the same time.

  “But—”

  He leaned in, and his warm breath slid over her lips, like a kiss though he never touched her. “Lady Marianne, it is time we begin your education. And that will require privacy. Make your final preparations and then we go in my carriage. Together. Alone.”

  Chapter Four

  Alexander watched as Marianne shifted in her seat, turning toward the window and craning her neck as the townhouse disappeared behind them. When it was entirely out of sight, she settled back into place with a shaky sigh. There was a faint sparkle of tears in her eyes and to his surprise, his stomach clenched at the sight.

  Normally he didn’t allow himself such weakness, but he had a strange desire to comfort her, just as he had the night before.

  He cleared his throat. “You’ll see her soon.”

  She nodded and forced a smile to her face. “I know.”

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispered, somehow needing to remind her of that in her vulnerable state. Perhaps needing to remind himself the same thing.

  Her expression softened and she reached out as if to take his hand. Her fingers stretched toward him, and he held his breath as he waited for her touch. But before she could reach him, she stopped and dropped her eyes away. A blush filled her cheeks.

  “I suppose it is foolish of me, considering our bargain and why it was made. But I trust when you say you won’t hurt me, Your Grace.”

  He pressed his lips together hard. Did she refuse to touch him out of disgust for his appearance? Or was it just her innocence?

  Either way, he would have her. That was their bargain.

  He moved to her, taking the seat next to her. Slowly he lifted his hands up to her face. Her skin was impossibly soft, her lips trembling as she lifted them toward him, her breath coming as a ragged sigh of invitation and surrender.

  “Alexander,” he murmured.

  Her eyes widened slightly. “What?”

  “I’m going to do things to you, Marianne. Things that will require that you call me Alexander.”

  She swallowed hard, but didn’t resist as he dropped his lips to hers and kissed her. She went soft beneath him, her mouth opening to welcome him in. He smiled at the surrender. She was a quick learner and her shaky sigh told him she had enjoyed their previous encounter as much as he had.

  He was going to make sure she enjoyed their next one even more. He deepened the kiss, angling his head so he could taste every inch of her sweet mouth. To his shock, she responded, darting her tongue out and brushing it across his own. His body lit on fire with that innocent passion bubbling below the surface. His cock throbbed, swelling and hardening to a painful degree.

  He’d had plans for this woman. Plans that involved a bed in the inn they’d stop at along the way.

  He wasn’t going to make it that long.

  He pushed her back, pinning her against the wall of the carriage as he groaned into her open mouth. She slipped her arms around him, her fingers pressing hard into his shoulders as she kissed him back with passion that belied her trembling innocence.

  He drew back, exploring her face in
the dim light in the carriage. “Turn around.”

  She blinked. “Your Grace?”

  “Alexander,” he corrected again. “Turn around.”

  She still looked questioning as she did so, placing her back toward him. He shivered as he lifted his hands, unfastening the buttons along her spine.

  “What are you doing?” she murmured, but she didn’t draw away from him. In fact, she inched back a little, a small offering she might not have even realized she made.

  Which made it all the better.

  “I’m undressing you,” he said, pushing her gown forward. “I want to see you. Turn back around.”

  She was slow to do so, but at last she faced him, her cheeks flaming red, her nipples hard against the flimsy fabric of her chemise. He reached out to slide his fingers beneath the straps and drew them down to tangle with the gown, revealing her from the waist up.

  Her lips were trembling, but she didn’t refuse him as he stared at her body. Her beautiful body. She had full breasts, they would be heavy in his hands, and they were capped with dusty rose nipples that at present were swollen and hard with desire she likely didn’t even understand.

  He bent his head and traced the tip of his tongue around one nipple. She gasped at the sensation, but quickly arched against him with a low moan.

  “What is this?” she murmured.

  He lifted his head, watching how her face was slack with sensation even as her eyes were wide with confusion. “Pleasure,” he said. “This is pleasure. And there is about to be a great deal more of it. Lift your skirts.”

  “Alexander,” she said, her cheeks flaming.

  “Do it,” he ordered.

  She inched them up, barely to her knees, and he almost laughed at her defiance. He rather liked her spark. He didn’t want her to lose it—he just wanted her to use it on more…exciting matters.

  He caught her hem and pushed the dress all the way up to her stomach. She was wearing drawers, which he reached down and caught, tearing the fabric open at the slit and baring her lower body.