Page 85 of Duke with a Deception
“Exactly as you like,” he promised her with full, wicked intent.
“Come with me, then.” She tucked the box under one arm and held out her free hand to him.
He took it, wishing that blasted box and the undoubtedly amorous epistles within to perdition. Hand in hand, they went up the staircase, Verity carrying the albatross of her past along with them. She stopped at her bedroom, depositing the wooden box. He waited at the threshold, watching her place it on a dresser, feeling like an interloper in his own life.
It wasn’t a particularly enjoyable sensation.
He should tell her. What if she ever did decide to read those damnable letters? What if they brought her memories flooding back, and she remembered everything?
Yes, he should tell her for all those reasons.
But when?
How?
She turned back to him with a soft smile, and he opened his arms.
Choose me, he thought.Choose the future, not the past.
And as if she had heard him utter the words aloud, Verity flew toward him. He held her tightly, wrapping her in his embrace as the beloved scent of bergamot and rose enveloped him.
“As I said, angel, I am yours,” he reminded her. “What shall you do with me?”
“I have a notion or two.” Her gaze was sensual and frank as it settled on his mouth. “Is Hutchens in your chamber?”
“If he is, I’ll give him the sack.”
She chuckled. “You wouldn’t. You are far too fond of the way he takes care of your wardrobe.”
“The man is a priceless gem,” he admitted, grinning back at her as he allowed himself to bask in the warmth of her curves pressed against him. “Let’s go next door and have a look, shall we?”
They moved together through the door adjoining their chambers, finding his blessedly and conveniently empty. Hutchens likely wouldn’t come until King rang for him to dress for dinner. And dinner was a long way off, thank God.
He kissed Verity, tasting tea and desire and the only woman he would ever need. She made him whole. She brought him to his knees. Somehow, some way, he would explain himself. He would find a way to keep from losing her.
Because a life without her was as impossible as one without air.
CHAPTER 16
Verity stared at her reflection in the mirror, scarcely recognizing herself.
The woman looking back at her was dressed in a deep-purple silk velvet evening gown made specifically for her. The bodice clung lovingly to her silhouette, the décolletage cut daringly low. At her throat, the diamond necklace King bought her sparkled brilliantly, matching the brooch pinned to her bodice, her earrings, and the tiara perched carefully upon her intricate coiffure.
A soft knock sounded at the door connecting her room to King’s, her sign that he, too, had finished dressing for the ball they were about to host together.
“Come in,” she said, nervousness skittering through her as she turned away from the mirror to find her handsome husband crossing the threshold.
He stopped mid-stride as if he had run into a wall, his dark eyes devouring her.
“Sweet Christ, angel. You are incomparable.”
Warmth swept over her. King never failed to make her feel beautiful and loved. It was his particular gift.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” she said, dipping into a curtsy. “Do you think I shall successfully browbeat everyone in attendance into donating as much as possible to the cause?”
He chuckled softly. “I have no doubt you shall.”
She allowed her gaze to travel over his form appreciatively. He was dressed in evening black, his suit tailored to perfection, a crisp white shirt and a tie at his throat. His dark hair was recently trimmed and his angular jaw cleanly shaven.
