Page 19 of Duke with a Deception
Excellent.
She had seen the way her new husband’s eyes had lovingly clung to her body earlier. She knew he was at war with himself, trying to be a gentleman. In this skirmish, she was the enemy, she supposed. She had waited far too long for this night, this moment, and it wasn’t a gentleman she wanted.
It was King.
The wicked savior, the jaded rake, the man to whom her heart belonged and now the rest of her too. Forever.
There were things she knew she should not long for—sinful things, whispered, secret things. Things that she only read about in the bawdy books she privately devoured. And she was not surrendering her desire for those things. He was her husband at long last, and she wasn’t meekly, quietly going to bed in her own room.
Had he no notion of whom he had married? Perhaps not if he believed she would.
No, she was going to meet him in his room, and they were going to consummate this marriage. She nodded at herself, summoning all the daring she possessed. Who would have believed that she, a novice, would be tasked with seducing her own husband on her wedding night?
Verity smoothed both hands over her unbound locks, and with a deep breath, she turned back to the door adjoining her chamber with King’s, only to find him standing there at the threshold. Their eyes met, the searing intensity of his gaze sending a jolt of awareness through her.
How long had he been watching?
She decided that it didn’t matter.
“Come,” he said, his voice low and pleasant and deep, sending a thrill down her spine.
He extended his hand to her, palm up, and she found herself moving toward him as if in a dream. This was what she had waited for, what she had longed for these last two months. Her heart beat with such strong, pent-up love in that moment that she could scarcely think. A handful of steps and she stood before him, placing her hand in his.
The connection of their bare skin made her breath quicken. How strange, for this touch was far more innocent than his hands on her bottom had been mere minutes ago. But her mind had still been sluggish from sleep then, and she hadn’t been fully capable of comprehending the gravity of the situation.
She’d been naked before her husband, without shame.
Mamanhad told her to behave with propriety in all regards, that her husband would expect his wife to comport herself in a manner befitting her status as duchess. Verity had ignored her advice, thinking she knew King better.
But now she wondered, doubting herself. Had she shocked him? Disappointed him?
“I should apologize for my presumption earlier,” she said as he led her back into his private domain. “I shouldn’t have disrobed.”
“You needn’t apologize on my behalf. Indeed, if there is anywhere you ought to disrobe and await me naked, it is here in my bedroom.” He grinned as he brought her hand to his lips for a fervent kiss. “I must beg your pardon for keeping you waiting so long that you fell asleep. It was badly done of me.”
The practiced seducer had returned. Had she taken him by surprise earlier? It seemed impossible for a man of his legendary prowess. And yet, there was no denying the lack of polish he’d exhibited, as if his rakish mask had lowered for a few moments and she had been treated to the man within, the one who held her heart. He was complex, her husband. But how fortunate she was that of all the women in London he might have chosen to wed, he had selected her.
“Perhaps I can be persuaded to forgive you,” she managed breathlessly, every part of her acutely reacting to him, from the tightness in her breasts and the way her nipples had hardened to points beneath her dressing gown, to the ache deep within her.
He watched her now with hooded eyes, his dark gaze glittering with untold sensual promise as he kissed her knuckles, one by one. “I think I know a means of persuasion you’ll find most enlivening.”
A pang of desire made her core clench. “You do?”
Slowly, with meticulous care, he straightened her forefinger and brought it to his lips before sucking it into the hot recesses of his mouth. She felt that suck between her thighs. Felt it all the way to her toes. Her stomach felt as if it performed a flip as his tongue flitted against her fingertip.
She could do nothing but watch in rapt, speechless fascination as he withdrew her finger, leaving it wet in the cool evening air before nipping the fleshy pad lightly with his teeth. “Yes, angel. I do.”
She licked her lips, searching for words that eluded her, her mind momentarily wiped free of all language. “Oh.”
He gave her a slow grin that melted something inside her. “But first, I’ve decided that since you’re here, there’s no need to ring for Hutchens. You shall serve as my valet this evening.”
“I shall?”
“Yes.” Holding her gaze, he overturned her hand, revealing her palm, and pressed a kiss to the center. “You shall.”
He kissed to the edge of her sleeve, his tongue flicking over the sensitive skin of her inner wrist. Her knees threatened to give out. Was it hot in the room? She was suddenly overheated. Perhaps she was going to swoon.
“But how?” she managed. “I have no notion of what a valet does.”
