Dukes Are Forever

by Anna Harrington

  His bedchamber was just down the hall, but with each step, he shifted closer to her, leaning more weight against her until she had no choice but to slip her arm around his waist to hold him steady. He was still weak, and in his rush to be out of bed, he’d also fatigued himself.

  She nudged open his door with her hip and helped him across the room to the bed. Slipping from her arms, his heavy body slid down to sit on the edge of the mattress. She lifted the covers away and gently helped him back against the pillows.

  Immediately, exhaustion swept over him, and he slumped down. But his eyes were still open, despite the heavy lids threatening to close at any moment.

  “You should stay in bed,” she urged, pulling the sheet up to his waist.

  “I am in bed.” He lifted an unsteady hand and touched her hip. “And now so are you.”

  Realizing she sat just inches from him, she scrambled to her feet.

  “Damn,” he murmured regretfully.

  Kate gaped at him, momentarily speechless. He wanted her in bed with him?

  She was still furious at him for believing what they’d shared had been manipulated and selfish—

  But traitorous heat fluttered low in her belly at the possibility of what might have happened had he been just a bit more rested, and she didn’t think she would have had the will to stop him. Not when she still craved him. Even unbathed, unshaved, and half-delirious, he still aroused her. Good heavens, she’d nearly taken off all his clothes just minutes ago in the sitting room!

  It was insane, the effect this man had on her. “You’re mad!”

  “And you’re beautiful.”

  Especially when he said things like that.

  Her throat tightened. “Edward—”

  “Augusta trusts you. She thinks I should, too.”

  She turned away under the pretense of reaching toward the bedside table to fix a dose of laudanum so he wouldn’t see the anguished expression on her face. “But you never will, will you?”

  She stirred the dark liquid into a glass of water, adding a spoonful of sugar to dull the bitterness, then sat next to him on the edge of the bed and held out the glass. Instead of answering, he tossed back the mixture in one swallow, then reached past her to set the glass on the table.

  When she started to rise, he grabbed her wrist, tugging her off-balance and down toward him on the bed. Her arms flailed to catch herself, but she landed sprawled halfway across his solid body, her breasts flattening against his bare chest.

  His mouth lowered to her ear. “I know how it feels to be inside you, angel.” His breath burned hot across her cheek. “And I know I was the first man to be there.”

  “Edward,” she whispered, closing her eyes against the sweet torture of his words, against the heat of his hand as it swept over her hip to cup her bottom and squeeze.

  “I felt you shatter, heard you cry my name…” His warm lips brushed against her earlobe, and she shivered. “That wasn’t pretend. You weren’t acting that.”

  And she never could have. Because she’d wanted him as much as he’d wanted her, and she still did.

  He tenderly kissed her cheek, to nibble teasingly at the corner of her mouth. “But I also saw your letter, and I can’t forget that.”

  His hand tightened around her arm and lifted her against him as his lips slid fully across hers.

  Wrapping her hand behind his neck to pull herself closer, she moaned against his sensuous mouth and drank in his kiss, the kiss she’d longed for during the past weeks without him, the kiss she thought his wrath would keep from her forever. But now, his lips were once again tasting hers, his hands stroking along her curves, and all that mattered was that he not stop.

  She craved his touch and whimpered shamelessly for more, and she melted with shivering gratitude when his tongue teased apart her lips and slipped inside to stroke against hers, giving her the intimate contact she desired. She could feel his need for her surging to the surface, just as she could feel his arousal hardening beneath her. Despite his anger and distrust, he still wanted her. And oh, dear Lord, how she still wanted him!

  She arched herself against him, to wrap her arms around his shoulders and press herself tight—

  With a sharp groan, he drew in a painful breath and reached for his shoulder, his eyes pressing closed as his face paled.

  “Oh!” she gasped. “I’ve hurt you!”

  “More than you know,” he rasped, his breath panting down the pain. Just as quickly as he’d grabbed her to him, he released her and shifted away.

  She sat back in confusion, her body reeling from the sudden rush of desire, from the sudden loss of his heat. His face glowered darkly but his eyes were bright, and she realized he was just as affected by the kiss as she was. Just as confused.

  “Why did you do that?” She pressed her hand against her lips, still hot and moist from his.

  He stared at her mouth, as if he couldn’t bring himself to look into her eyes. “Because I still want you,” he admitted.

  Her heart sank. How much of that confession was Edward, how much the drug? “But you haven’t forgiven me.”

  “No.” He closed his eyes and fatigue pushed him into unconsciousness.

  * * *

  Phillip Benton watched his daughter and the Countess of Tourney make their way slowly down Bond Street, pausing in front of windows and occasionally entering a shop to return later with piles of boxes and parcels handed over to two liveried footmen to place into the ebony carriage following behind. Oh, Katherine was lovely in her new finery, looking for all the world as if she belonged there among the quality, and in return, the fops and biddies of the ton swarmed around her, all of them desiring an introduction to the Duke of Strathmore’s new ward.

  And to think, just a few weeks ago, she’d sent him a letter begging him to tell her the guardianship was a mistake.

  She’d never been a stupid one, but truly, it was laughable for her not to realize the agreement was his insurance in case Strathmore changed his mind and tried to put him into debtor’s prison. The public scandal that would erupt if the oh-so-respectable duke tossed his ward’s father into prison—the countess would never let that happen.

  Then Litchfield had nearly ruined everything. That damned idiot had actually shot Strathmore when all he needed to do was collect the money and walk away, meet him at the café, and split the profits. Now, the baronet had fled the country, taking all the blunt with him and forcing him to start over on a new plan to free himself.

  Strathmore would pay for ruining his life. He would make the bastard regret what he’d done to him. And if he had to use his daughter to do so, so be it.

  From the looks of her, parading around with the countess and freely spending Strathmore’s money, she’d already switched sides. Very likely, she was also sleeping with the enemy according to the gossip of how Strathmore reacted to Litchfield.

  He wasn’t surprised. She was just like her mother. That scheming bitch had lifted her skirts easily enough, then gotten with child and demanded he marry her, only to turn on him the moment he’d needed a little money. And her daughter had done the same. She’d kept Brambly from him when selling the farm would have secured him for life. He’d felt no guilt in abandoning the mother, and he’d certainly feel none in using the daughter to save himself.

  He’d been forced into this, and now, Katherine would make good for all the past wrongs done to him, he’d see to it. Just as he’d make certain that Strathmore would pay.

  Oh, how he was going to pay. Very, very dearly.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  She was going mad. Simply mad!

  Pacing in her bedroom, Kate threw up her hands in frustration at yet another sleepless night. And it was all that infuriating man’s fault, drat him. Every night since Edward tugged her down into his bed and kissed her, when he’d whispered those words into her ear about how it felt to make love to her, her whirling mind had been unable to think about anything else but him. How wonderfully wanton he made her feel w
hen his hands explored her, when his mouth tasted her. How decadent the feel of his heavy body pushing down into hers. How sweet the ache he bloomed inside her, how even sweeter the release…

  Oh, drat him!

  Faced with those torturous thoughts, she was once again spending the night pacing barefoot in her night rail, trying to force down by physical exhaustion the hot need for him aching between her thighs and the emotional yearning in her chest, and wondering how many passes a rug could take before it went threadbare.

  Lord help her, she still wanted him, and what made the torment worse was knowing that he would welcome her into his bed if she went to him. He’d admitted his desire—she’d felt it, for goodness’ sake!

  Yet nothing had changed. He still believed her capable of seducing him to free herself from the guardianship. And she was still just as angry and hurt that he did.

  Taking a deep breath, she stopped and stared at the door. Foolish ninny! She was an absolute cake for still wanting him. Once again pacing, she shook her head, ashamed at her own weakness that had her longing for him to make her shiver with his heat—

  She bit her lip, her gaze returning to the door. His bedroom was just down the hall. If she went to him, he would welcome her with hard kisses and soft caresses, not wondering why she came to him but why she’d waited so long.

  And truly, why should she wait? Why should she spend her nights pacing, alone in her room, when she could be with him?

  Only her pride and his stubbornness stopped them from seeking mutual pleasure. He didn’t believe her now, hadn’t forgiven her and probably never would, so what would change if she surrendered again to him? When morning came, he would still not believe her, but she would have gained another night in his arms that she would otherwise never have and the satisfaction of being at the center of his desire, if not his love.

  They had no future, but they could have tonight. And when she returned to Brambly, she could take with her the memory of being in his arms one last time, the knowledge that she’d made a man like Edward want her.

  Pushing back her shoulders with determination, she hurried across the room and flung open the door.

  And caught her breath—

  “Edward.”

  He stood in the doorway, his hand raised as if ready to knock. He wore only his trousers and a much smaller bandage. It was there now more as a reminder not to do something foolish to reopen the wound than as protection, although she knew the pain of the bullet still lingered, just as she knew there was nothing weak or unsteady about him now.

  His hand dropped to his side, and the momentary surprise that dashed across his face melted into something hotter as he slowly lingered his gaze over her, taking in the sleeveless night rail with its scooped neckline tied with a bow, and her bare toes peeking out beneath. When his eyes returned to hers, the intensity of his gaze stole her breath away.

  “Were you going somewhere, Katherine?” The husky murmur of his voice tickled down her spine, and her bare toes curled beneath her.

  “Yes,” she breathed, mesmerized by his sudden appearance and her own desire mirrored back in the dark depths of his eyes. He wanted her, and she burned for him.

  “Where?”

  Her heart skipped, and she whispered, “To your bed.”

  His eyes flashed with unguarded pleasure at her breathless confession, and her belly began to warm. “Then invite me inside.”

  She hesitated. Now that he was here, standing before her in oh-so-masculine flesh and blood, her courage faltered, and she bit her bottom lip as she stared up at him. Nothing had changed, nothing at all…Was she a fool to give herself to him?

  Sensing her wariness, he shifted closer. “I’ve been thinking about you,” he admitted, “about everything that’s happened.”

  “Have you?” The surprise in her voice emerged as a throaty purr.

  But he didn’t reach for her, only stared at her with such arousal that she pulsed electric. “Tell me again why you sent that letter to your father.”

  “Because he’s my father.” Each word tore at her heart even as it raced furiously, her breath coming shallow. “He’s the only family I have left, and that should mean something. We should love each other, shouldn’t we? We should care for each other…” Even now the heartbreak of knowing her father would never love her clawed at her, and she inhaled a sharp breath. “I’m so sorry I sent it. Please forgive me.”

  He lowered his head as if to kiss her but stopped himself, his mouth hovering so close to hers yet without touching that she could feel his heat shadowing her lips. “I already have.”

  Worry and relief mixed inside her in bittersweet longing. She so desperately wanted him to kiss her and reassure her that he meant what he said, so afraid he wouldn’t. “Edward—”

  “And tell me again,” he whispered, each soft word a feather’s tickle against her lips, “why did you give yourself to me?”

  “Because I wanted you,” she admitted simply, “and no other reason.”

  His face tightened with tormented remorse. “I’m sorry, Katherine. I was such a damned fool for hurting you like that, for sending you away. I saw the letter and I thought you were no better than…” Inhaling a sharp breath, he shook his head as if not wanting to remember the anguished suffering he’d caused for both of them. “I was wrong, so very wrong, and I will never send you away again, I promise.” Then he touched his lips to hers in a kiss that was little more than a hopeful breath. “Forgive me.”

  In the past few weeks since she arrived in London, she’d come to understand this complicated man and knew why he’d felt compelled to exile her to the moors…not because he didn’t want her, but because he wanted her too much. The soft words choked her as she whispered his words back to him. “I already have.”

  A sigh of relief shuddering through him, he rubbed his thumb across her lower lip. The tiny caress tingled through her in anticipation of what could come, if she let it. “Then invite me inside, Katherine.”

  She sighed as he looped his thumb up to trace the outline of her mouth, her lips parting delicately beneath his touch, and she whispered, “I’m still furious at you.”

  His mouth curled into an amused half grin. “Good.”

  A hot ache sprang up between her legs as that grin wrapped around her, taking her prisoner. Her heart somersaulted, and she stared up at him through lowered lashes, unable to meet his gaze directly in her sudden shyness over the wantonness that had come over her so shamelessly tonight. “Would you…” She swallowed nervously. “Would you like to come inside?”

  “Very much,” he murmured.

  Catching her breath, she raised her eyes to his and slowly backed into the room. Edward followed, step by step, not breaking his gaze from hers even when he reached behind him to close the door and throw the lock.

  Her blood ran hot with both nervous excitement and aching arousal, her heart speeding so fast her chest hurt from the pounding of it, and her legs shook as she crossed the dark room toward the bed, one backward step at a time. Even in the dim light from the low fire, she could see the heat shining in his dark eyes, glistening like the devil’s own as he stalked after her.

  She reached the side of her bed and raised a hand to stop him, just feet from her, and he obeyed. Emboldened by the raw desire she saw on his face, she reached trembling fingers to the bow at the neckline of her nightgown. “Tell me you want me,” she ordered softly.

  His eyes swept over her, and everywhere he looked, heat prickled her skin. “I want you, Katherine.”

  She pulled the bow, and the ribbon slipped free, the night rail falling open around her shoulders and revealing just a glimpse of her breasts beneath the billowing white cotton.

  “Like this?” she whispered. He watched as she reached up and pushed the loose material from her left shoulder, the white cotton falling down her arm to expose her breast.

  “Yes.” Beneath his hot gaze, her nipple puckered achingly.

  “Or like this?” she tempted again, her
hand reaching up to her other shoulder and letting the gown fall away to her waist, baring both breasts to his greedy gaze. And brazenly, she let him look, each ragged breath that tore from him making the need between her legs throb harder.

  “God, yes,” he groaned, clenching his hands at his sides as he fought his urge to reach for her, knowing to play out his part in her game.

  All her uncertainty gone, now replaced by a smoldering desire to make him want her more than he’d wanted any woman, Kate thrilled with her newfound power over him, relishing in the way she both tempted and tantalized him. Already she was wet between her thighs, her body ready to welcome his, but first she wanted to tease him, to torment in deliberate retribution for the way he’d made her want him all those lonely nights in the moors.

  She fluttered her hand across her breasts, lightly teasing at her nipples with her fingertips, rewarded by another hungry groan from him. “You like looking at me?”

  “Very much,” he growled softly.

  “Then have a good, long look.” She dropped her nightgown to the floor to stand before him, naked and trembling. She heard his breath hitch with a gasp, and with a pulse of excitement, she trailed her hand down her body, fluttering over her breasts and across her belly, until she teased her fingers into the curls between her legs. His hot gaze followed everywhere she so shamelessly touched, and when he wet his lips as she dared to stroke down between her thighs, she gave a throaty laugh at his reaction. “You want your mouth on me, don’t you?”

  “No,” he rasped out. When her fingers paused at his unexpected answer, he took a step toward her, close enough now that she could feel the heat of his body warming her front but not yet touching. It was his turn to tempt and tantalize. He lowered his mouth to her ear and whispered in a hot breath, “I want your wicked little mouth on me.”

  Her thighs clenched hard, and she surrendered with a breathless plea. “Edward.”

  He pushed her back onto the bed. She fell onto the mattress with a gentle gasp of surprise, and when he crawled on top of her, his mouth fiercely captured hers. He thrust his tongue between her lips to plunge inside, swirling and sweeping to plunder her mouth, and she eagerly welcomed him, entwining her arms around his neck and arching her breasts against his hard chest.