Page 86 of Duke with a Deception
“You are wonderfully handsome as always,” she said, closing the distance between them. “I fear that in addition to browbeating, I shall also have to sternly chase away all the ladies who will be fawning over you.”
“I am pleased you find me so, my love.” He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. “Your opinion is the only one that matters to me, and as for the ladies, I would happily chase them away myself. My heart is yours. I, meanwhile, shall be busy trying not to thrash every man who dares to admire you.”
She had a sudden, fleeting feeling she had heard him issue a similar warning before, but she couldn’t call up the memory. It was hazy and indistinct at best, but she swore she could remember him threatening to thrash someone for making her weep.
“What is it?” he asked, kissing her inner wrist. “What makes you frown, angel?”
Verity forced a smile, telling herself she was being silly. “I could have sworn I remembered you promising to thrash someone for making me weep. But I cannot seem to recall where, when, or why. It must have been a dream.”
His grasp on her hand tightened slightly. “It must have been.” He kissed higher along her wrist before straightening. “Although I can assure you that I would be more than happy to thrash anyone who so much as made you frown, let alone weep, my love.”
“Between you and Everett, I have quite the protectors.”
A shadow passed over her husband’s features. “I hope your brother can behave himself this evening.”
She sighed, for Everett hadn’t shown any indication of relenting. “He is stubborn, as you know, but Sybil will be at his side to keep him at his best.”
“He ought to kiss her hems.”
“I suspect he does.” She smiled, thinking of how besotted her brother was. “It is wonderful to see him and Sybil together.”
“I am happy for Riverdale, but I do hope he could find it in his icy heart to be happy for us as well.” King’s voice was wry.
“He is relenting,” she reassured him. “Only look at how long it took him to realize he was in love with his wife, when he was smitten from the moment he first met her.”
“I shall defer to your infallible sense of optimism, my love.” He grinned. “Now, enough talk about your brother, if you please. I want to bask in the sight of you. Spin about so I may see the full effect of your gloriousness.”
“Gloriousness?” She laughed, charmed as always. “You see me every day, silly.”
“Humor your poor, infatuated husband.” He was still holding her hand, which he now held aloft with the intent to whirl her about as if they were on a crowded dance floor.
Verity obliged, allowing him to twirl her slowly for his delectation.
“You are,” he said, all the levity leaching from his face, “without doubt, the loveliest woman I have ever beheld.”
“You flatter me.”
“There’s no need to, angel. You are beautiful. I cannot tell you how proud I shall be to stand at your side this evening. You are the finest woman I know.”
King’s expression, like his tone, was earnest and devoid of his customary polish and rakish air. He meant what he was saying. His pride in her and his praise suffused her with warmth.
“Thank you, my love.” She couldn’t resist stepping into him, not caring if her skirts were crushed.
She rose on her toes and pressed her mouth to his. King’s response was instant. His hands went to her waist, holding her against his strong, lean form as he ravished her lips. The kiss deepened, his tongue sliding against hers.
She groaned as a feverish need—never far when her husband was about—awakened in her.
“I don’t suppose we have enough time to dress a second time before the ball begins,” she grumbled into his kiss.
He kissed her swiftly and then lifted his head, staring down at her hungrily. “My wicked wife. I’ve taught you well. Perhaps there’s not sufficient time to dress again, but there might be time for a bit of fun.”
Anticipation coursed through her. She thought she knew what he had in mind.
“Won’t my skirts get dreadfully wrinkled?” she asked, breathless.
King grinned. “Do you care?”
“No.”
