Page 41 of Winter's Wallflower
“Neither I nor my men.” He took another lengthy draught of his ale. “Bad business to go about beating the quality. Words gets round. I have other methods of persuasion at my disposal when collecting what is owed me.”
He had deceived her. Misled her. And to what end? To make her his wife? Anger and outrage rose within her, battling for supremacy.
She was beginning to realize the man she had married was more Machiavellian than she had initially supposed. “Such as cozening ladies into marrying you?”
“Not all ladies, Duchess. Only one.”
There was a spark in his gaze that settled deep within her, lighting an answering flame in spite of her every attempt to ignore it and tamp down the unwanted way he made her feel. “I suppose I must be grateful for small mercies.”
“Excellent notion, love. Now eat your supper before it goes cold.”
She would have argued, but her stomach chose that moment to growl once more with the reminder that she was truly famished. Adele forked up another bite of meat pie and wondered how she was going to navigate the treacherous path ahead.
A path that had nothing to do with ice- and snow-laden roads bound for London and everything to do with navigating her relationship with the dangerous man she had married.
Chapter 11
Dom could not sleep.
Likely because his mind was still addled from the suspected poison brother dearest had slipped into his wassail, he had decided to play the gentleman.
That was the only reason he had not immediately kissed his wife senseless following dinner, then stripped her out of her gown and stockings and made love to her all night long. Certainly, it had nothing to do with the budding sensation in his chest, which he refused to believe was tenderness.
He had not turned his back to give her modesty while she slipped beneath the thick blankets because she had seemed so drowsy following their meal. Nor had he lowered the lights and banked the fire before climbing into the opposite side of the bed in his breeches and shirt because he was feeling guilty for manipulating her into wedding him.
Because Dominic Winter was not merciful. Nor was he kind. Or considerate. And above all, he did not care for anyone outside the immediate circle of his sister and brothers. He could not afford to be anything other than the man he was, fashioned of cold, lead, and steel.
One brunette duke’s daughter with the lushest lips he had ever kissed would not change him. This he vowed as he shifted in the bed, attempting to find a comfortable position and willing his rigid cock to wilt. She was a means to an end.
Damn it, how was he going to get any rest tonight knowing she was sharing the same bed, within arm’s reach? Knowing the seductive warmth beneath the bedclothes belonged to her?
On a sigh, he attempted to adjust himself. But that only made the need pulsing through him even more pronounced. And worse, because he wanted her to be the one touching him. He wanted to pin her to the bed and make love to her until the sun rose.
“Floating hell,” he grumbled into the darkness of the night.
“Is something amiss?”
Her husky question startled him. From the soft, even breaths she had been taking, he had been convinced she was asleep.
“Go to sleep, Duchess.”
“Do you have an aversion to questions, Mr. Winter?”
Fancy words from the fancy lady he had married. He clenched his jaw. That ought to have made his cockstand die a hasty death, the reminder she was of the quality and yet another question, coupled with her insistence on calling himMr. Winter.
If anything, it only made him harder. As did the knowledge she was awake.
“Do you have an aversion to calling me Dom?” he countered softly.
Part of him knew he should just flop on his belly and go the hell to sleep. Part of him could not resist her. She was dangerous, this woman. He wanted her far too much.
Far more than he should.
Far more than was safe.
“Why do you have a predilection for answering one question with another?” came her voice through the inkiness of the cool night.
Soft and seductive, that dulcet tone. It did things to him. Made him long for things he could never have. Happiness. Love. Arms to hold him, a heart which could be his.
