The Courtesan Duchess

by Joanna Shupe

  He held her hand as she climbed into the boat and then jumped in himself. Fitz discreetly followed and within seconds the gondola set off, rocking gently through the water.

  Nick sat next to Julia in the darkened cabin. The walk had cooled him off a bit, so he decided to hold off on undressing her until he had her in a bed. Which served to remind him . . . “I was surprised to wake up alone this morning,” he told her.

  “I apologize. I assumed it would be easier if I left before you awoke. Were you disappointed?”

  “Of course. And I would have been quite upset had Fitz not followed you to your palazzo and assured me of your safe return. What were you thinking, leaving unaccompanied like that? Venice can be just as unsafe as any other large city.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard how unsafe it is for you. Why did you not tell me there have been attempts on your life?” Even in the dim light, one could clearly see the concern in the depths of her blue eyes.

  He wasn’t used to having someone worry over him. Well, Fitz worried . . . but that was Fitz. He was paid to care. Juliet’s interest in his safety, however, made Nick uncomfortable.

  He shrugged. “Eight months ago we were set upon by some petty thieves. Fitz believes the event to be part of a more sinister plot, but I believe it bad timing.”

  “Bad timing?” She huffed. “Do you honestly believe that?”

  The woman was intelligent, that was for certain. Nevertheless, he needn’t fan any fear or anxiety over the attacks. “Yes, I do. And why are we discussing this when we could be talking about more important matters—such as how I wish to spend a week with you in my bed?”

  She laughed as if he’d made a joke, and Nick frowned. Did she not believe he wanted her to himself ? He’d never been more serious in his life.

  “It is not a jest,” he told her flatly.

  Her eyebrows rose and she studied him carefully. “Nick, the idea of a week is absurd. I could manage a few days, but I wouldn’t want you to . . . tire of me.”

  “There is very little chance of that.” He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss on her lips. “I daresay a week would not even be enough time to discover all your secrets.” His lips touched hers again, more forcefully this time.

  She melted into him, opening her mouth and offering no resistance, and his shaft began to harden. The kiss turned hot, with each of them attempting to devour the other. He drank in every sigh and small moan she gave him, relishing the proof of her passion.

  Neither of them noticed the boat had slowed. “Your Grace,” he heard Fitz call.

  Nick pulled back and swore softly. He was fully aroused again and he’d left his overcoat at the theater. Christ.

  It was getting so he could not go out in public with her.

  Fitz snickered as Nick walked by, knowing full well as to how and why Nick was uncomfortable. The horse’s arse, he thought, shooting his friend a dark glance before helping Juliet out of the gondola.

  “My dear,” he said to Juliet. “What is your maid’s name?”

  “Fiorella. Why in heaven’s name do you—”

  Nick didn’t bother answering her. He didn’t want to give her an opportunity to contradict him. “Fitz, go see Signorina Fiorella. Mrs. Leighton needs a week’s worth of clothes brought to my palazzo. She’ll be our guest for the next seven days.”

  “Nick!” Juliet gasped. “I can’t possibly—”

  “Go,” Nick said, ushering Mrs. Leighton toward the palazzo. “Go now, Fitz,” he called over his shoulder.

  Fitz nodded and Nick had complete confidence it would be handled. God, the mere thought of having Juliet at his mercy for seven days . . . He walked a bit faster.

  “Please have her pack my enhancements and lotions!” Juliet called over her shoulder to Fitz before they reached the door.

  “You won’t need any enhancements with me, Juliet. I daresay you won’t even need clothes, but I thought it better to be safe.” He leaned down, hooked an arm behind her knees, and lifted her up. “Tomorrow, you can send a note round to Winchester and your aunt, letting them know you’ll be with me for the next week.”

  “Nick, put me down!” She threw her arms around his neck and held on as he strode to the stairs.

  “In seven days, Mrs. Leighton. Until then, you’re mine.”

  Chapter Six

  Allow him the upper hand, if necessary—but only for a short time. To control him is to control your destiny.

  —Miss Pearl Kelly to the Duchess of Colton

  Julia narrowed her eyes at the duke. “Is this a regular occurrence for you? Kidnapping women?” He had placed her on his bed and was now hastily removing his topcoat. “You cannot keep me here for seven days, Nick.”

  She fought down her panic. If she didn’t get her hair lotion, the red color would turn back to her natural blond by week’s end. At that point, Nick would know he’d been duped and likely have Fitz throw her over the nearest Venetian cliff.

  Please, Fiorella.

  Perhaps she could send a note to Theo, and her aunt could somehow smuggle the lotion into Nick’s palazzo if necessary.

  Is this what her life had come to, subterfuge for hair lotion?

  She had no choice. If Nick discovered her identity, everything she’d worked so hard for would be destroyed. There would be no baby. There would be no money. And there would be no husband, because Nick would never speak to her again.

  “No, this is not a regular occurrence for me. I’ve never invited a woman here for one full day, let alone seven. But I know you want to be here, Juliet.” Nick’s waistcoat flew off. “You know it, and I know it. Why deny ourselves such wanton pleasure when it hurts no one and benefits us both?” He went to work on his cravat.

  “Nick.” Julia sighed, torn between arguing and giving in. Likely the latter, since she did want to stay with him. Not only would it make it easier for her to conceive, she liked being around him. Despite his reputation, her husband could be tender and sweet. Their previous evening together, he’d wrapped her in his arms all night long, tucking her snug against his body as if loath to let go.

  But she did not care to have the choice taken away from her.

  He noticed her frown while unbuttoning his falls. His hands froze and then fell to his sides. “Are you truly so unhappy with the idea of staying here?”

  She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. “I am not a valise, Nicholas, that can be transported and stored at your whim. It cannot always be your way.”

  “I know that,” he snapped, black brows drawn together in apparent confusion. “Is it compensation you need? I can—”

  “Absolutely not. Haven’t we settled that issue already? I do not want money from you. I want you to consider my feelings along with your own. I know you are a duke, but you are not my protector. Stop dictating to me as if—”

  Her jaw snapped shut. She’d almost said, “as if we are married.” Thankfully, she caught herself in time. Any mention of marriage would be ridiculously out of place for so many reasons.

  Nick drew near. With a finger under her chin, he tilted her head up until she met his eyes. “I would very much like you to stay with me. Not because I forced you, but because you want to.” He stroked her jawbone with his thumb. “Will you stay?”

  His sincerity touched her. Still, there was more at stake than her pride—hair lotion, to be precise. “Promise me you’ll allow me to go home at any time during the next seven days,” she said. He started to speak, and she cut him off. “Without asking me why.”

  Nick stepped back and dragged a hand through his hair. “If you truly do not wish to stay, you may go. I’ve no plans to keep you here against your will.”

  Julia shook her head. “I want to stay, Nick. But there may be a reason—a good reason—that I need to visit my palazzo. I need to know you’ll let me go and not ask me why when I come back.”

  “You’ll come back?”

  “Yes, I’ll come back. For seven nights and all the days I can manage.” She reached for
his hand and tugged him to the bed once more. “I want to be here, Nick. With you.”

  He grinned and bent to give her a surprisingly sweet and tender kiss.

  “Thank you for understanding,” she murmured against his mouth.

  “You may thank me by undressing,” he murmured in response.

  Laughing, Julia kicked off her slippers. Nick whipped his shirt over his head. Naked from the waist up, he knelt, the bed dipping beneath his weight. “Do not take off any more, cara. Let me unwrap you, layer by layer, like the sweetest treat I’ve ever been given until I have you begging beneath me.”

  He leaned to kiss the sensitive skin just behind the lobe of her ear. “Where should I start, do you think?” His gray eyes were dark and hot, liquid silver as they raked over her body. He brushed his knuckles whisper-soft over the tops of her breasts. “Hmm. I believe I’ll start with what I’ve been dreaming of all night.”

  Julia fell back against the coverlet and he followed, bending to slide his lips along her collarbone. She closed her eyes, reveling in the tender kisses he placed on her skin. He smelled like soap and a hint of sandalwood.

  A trail of fire erupted wherever his mouth touched. Julia could feel her breasts swell in anticipation.

  “Roll over, my dear.”

  Julia rolled onto her stomach, hands folded under her face. She patiently waited as Nick began to loosen her gown.

  And then he froze, a growl erupting from deep in his chest, and she couldn’t contain her smile. He’d found her surprise.

  “Is that another treat for me, you minx?”

  Julia shifted onto her back, holding her loosened gown across her breasts and hiding the scarlet boned chemise. “It is. And I might let you see it if you’re very, very good to me.”

  His eyes were fierce and bright, arousal sharpening the planes of his face. “I was already planning to be very good to you. I’m afraid you’ll have to do better than that, tesorina.”

  “What if I ask you to be very, very bad instead?”

  His mouth hitched into a sexy half smile. “Oh, I am entirely capable of that. Don’t move. I want to get comfortable.” Nick scooted until he was propped up against the headboard, arms crossed over his chest. A king about to survey all he rules, Julia thought with a laugh.

  The sharp intensity of his attention made her tingle as she stood up. Once at the side of the bed, she paused—then let go of her dress. It fell to the floor with a whoosh and Nick’s eyes went wide. “Sweet merciful heaven,” he whispered.

  Fashioned of bright scarlet satin, the top of the boned chemise was tight, thrusting her breasts up and out, and held up by thin red straps. Black lace covered the boning of the bodice down her rib cage, where sheer lace draped to her upper thighs. From the navel down, the thin fabric was nearly transparent.

  Julia felt impossibly ridiculous in the garment. Not only was it uncomfortable, it seemed impractical. Pearl had insisted no petticoat or stays were necessary, which had added to Julia’s discomfort. However, the heat in Nick’s gaze made the irritation worth it. Julia felt sexy, a woman who could do anything or have anyone she wanted. Powerful.

  “If you decide to seduce government secrets out of a man, I’d suggest wearing that,” he said huskily.

  She dragged a lazy fingertip across the swells of her breasts. “And do you have any secrets worth knowing, Your Grace?”

  “I daresay I’ll be babbling like a half-wit if you sit atop my cock in that.” His fingers flew down the remaining buttons of his breeches, and in one deft maneuver he was completely naked.

  Julia sucked in a breath. Lithe and lean, Nick was not overly muscled, but he was perfectly proportioned, with arms, legs, and chest dusted with crisp black hair. His erection was impressive, fully hard and straining against his belly. Her insides melted, moisture pooling between her thighs.

  He crooked a finger. “Come here, cara.”

  Julia slid onto the bed and slowly, teasingly, crawled her way up to him. Her heart slammed in her chest, every part of her now thrumming in anticipation. There was no shyness this time; she wanted him desperately. So much that she ached with it. And considering Nick was nearly panting while watching her approach, the feeling seemed entirely mutual. She loved that she, his innocent wife, could elicit this feverish desire from such a sinful man.

  When she drew close enough, his hands snatched her upper arms and he pulled her down on top of him, capturing her mouth in a blistering kiss.

  Their bodies resumed where they’d left off in the gondola. Breathing hard, they drank each other in, the kisses deep and wet. Her hands, trembling with need, touched him everywhere she could reach. Under her fingers he was hard angles and taut muscles, and rough, hot male skin.

  Nick brought her leg over him, so she was half on the bed and half over his body, her breasts crushed against his chest. One of his hands cupped her buttock while the other caressed a breast over the chemise.

  Then his fingers slid down to her cleft, where he stroked and teased her endlessly, seemingly in no hurry to do anything more. She broke the kiss and pressed her lips to his neck, struggling to hold on as the delicious sensation coursed through her. He slipped two fingers inside her. Rocked back and forth. “Nick,” she breathed, her toes curling in sweet agony. Digging her nails into his skin, she could only whimper as he mastered her body.

  “You are so wet for me. Feel what I feel, tesorina. See how your body responds to me.”

  He rolled her onto her back and captured her right hand. “Feel, Juliet. Let me watch you take your passion.” He guided her hand down until her fingers glided through the slickness of her cleft. She started to pull back, but he kept her hand in place. “You asked for very bad, remember? Let me watch you,” he whispered, his voice low and ragged.

  Julia hesitated, licking her lips nervously. Could she do something so highly improper? The wicked gleam in Nick’s eyes gave her confidence, however; she knew he would enjoy it every bit as much as she did.

  He leaned back and she boldly began caressing herself, lids falling shut in surrender. Ribbons of euphoria stole through her limbs, and she swept her fingers to the tiny nubbin of flesh, rolling it. She shuddered, her teeth biting her lip to keep from crying out.

  Pearl had insisted Julia learn how to bring herself pleasure, to familiarize herself with her own body. But Julia never dreamed she’d ever do this in front of anyone else. It was wanton. She felt truly . . . depraved, performing for him in such a manner. And that made it all the more exciting.

  She circled her clitoris, now slick and swollen, torturing herself until her breath came in tiny pants. Nick’s lips found the mound of breast exposed by the chemise, and his mouth trailed over the sensitive skin. Knowing he watched her drove her higher, made her more desperate. Her fingers moved faster, every touch adding to the marvelous pressure building inside her.

  He growled, a purely male sound low in his throat. “Damn, but you are beautiful. I cannot wait.” He fell onto his back and swung her on top, her legs straddling him. He lined up and, with one powerful thrust, drove inside. They both gasped, his hands locked on her hips while he took some deep breaths. She knew he was fighting for control. Only, Julia didn’t want him to find control. She clenched her inner muscles around him and then wiggled a bit.

  “Wait, oh God, Juliet. I—”

  His hold loosened, and her hips began rocking as he’d shown her during their first time together in the chair, lifting up on his shaft and then sliding all the way down again. Harder. Faster. She set a determined rhythm, giving him no mercy as she pleasured them both, her head falling back in sheer bliss. He felt so good, the way he filled up her body and stroked her sensitive walls. It was like nothing she’d ever imagined. And now she couldn’t imagine it with anyone else.

  When his hands found her breasts and rubbed the nipples through the satin, a rush of heat settled directly in her womb and she was lost.

  “I cannot hold back,” he gritted out. “So help me, I need to come deep inside y
ou.”

  Her body tightened and she could feel her release building. She looked at Nick. His eyes were closed, jaw clenched with the intense pleasure of their joining. She had done this to him, made him completely wild for her. All of a sudden, a blinding, earth-shattering orgasm swept over her. She dug her nails into his chest, holding on, shouting, as she convulsed.

  “Oh God, yes.” His body strained up into hers, hips jerking furiously as he peaked as well. He tensed, every muscle taut, and she felt the pulsing of his shaft, the rush of his seed filling her.

  Both of them still fighting for breath, she dropped on the bed next to him, exhausted. Was every joining between them to be like this? So frenetic, so intense?

  With one arm, he dragged her closer to his side. “God, woman. You rob me of words.”

  Julia could only grunt in response.

  “Here, cara. Allow me to get you out of this.” She waited as he undid the laces holding her chemise together. He slid it down her body and tossed the cloth to the floor. Her stockings and garters went next. Then he pulled her to him, her back against his chest.

  Surrounded by the heat of his body, she yawned. He drew a lazy pattern on her bare hip with his fingers and they stayed there, silent, for a long while, merely enjoying the simple contact.

  “Tell me about Mr. Leighton,” Nick said. “Were you happy with him?”

  She tensed. What was there to tell about a fictional man? Julia thought about her ideal husband and decided to start there. “He was a good man. A kind man. Not selfish or cruel. And he was faithful.”

  “Well, not hard to see why,” Nick murmured, kissing her shoulder. “It sounds as if he knew how fortunate he was.”

  Julia warmed under Nick’s compliment. “Thank you. We were happy. I was every bit as fortunate.”

  “I find myself appallingly jealous of a dead man.”