Page 30 of Single Desire
Her expression declared her irritation. Oh, the haughty duchess indeed!
“Your room suits you?” His tone was politeness itself.
“Very much, thank you.” She was coolly dignified, the little cheat! “It was kind of you to allow Aggie to help me unpack. And I’ve not yet had the chance to explore. Is that a dressing room?” She gestured toward the door next to the armoire.
“No.” It was amazing how one single word could give such immense satisfaction. “It’s my bedchamber. And most convenient, Irish. I can visit your bed whenever I like. And you can visit mine whenever you like.”
Very deliberately he stripped off his coat and tossed it on the chair next to the mirror.
Her eyes narrowed. “I wonder, then, your grace, what you are doing in my room. We are both aware that ours is a marriage compelled—”
“But it is a marriage nonetheless.” Casually, Alec began to unbutton his shirt. It landed atop his jacket. “And I promised you a night of marital bliss. I merely wish to set about the bedding of my bride with husbandly vigor. I promise you, you’ll not be disappointed.”
Defiance flared in those amazingly colored green eyes. “A boast, Scotsman?”
“A fact, Irish.”
She glared her disdain. But her tongue came out to wet her lips. She did that when she was nervous, he noted. As well she should be. Despite that, she did not shirk. No, she displayed no sign of giving way.
“You have already seen to the plucking of the fruit, your grace. It can be plucked only once.”
One corner of his mouth slanted up. He found her choice of words amusing.
“Therefore,” she continued, “you need not feel any obligation to provide me with a night of marital bliss, as you call it. I relieve you of the necessity. Besides, it was a long journey, was it not? I find I am quite fatigued.”
“A pity, for I am not.” He made the declaration with great pleasure.
Maura had maintained her stance near the armoire, her shoulders squared. Alec eyed her with shrewd consideration. “You availed yourself of me that night,” he reminded her smoothly. “Am I not entitled to the same enjoyment? Am I not allowed to avail myself of you?”
“I would remind you, your grace, you already have.”
Alec sat on the side of the bed and patted the space beside him. “But I remember so little of our night in bed together! I apologize most heartily for that. Never again will I drink to such excess. Now, Duchess, do you see why I find the prospect of a night with you so…invigorating? I am eager to make amends for my lack of appreciation that night. Did I give you pleasure?” He allowed no chance for reply. “Given your virgin state, I pray that I did. If my performance was clumsy, I am determined to make amends. To please you. To embrace my role of husband to the fullest extent, particularly in the arena of conjugal relations. Given the haste of our wedding, I admit that I never gave it much thought, but I believe husband and wife should share equal enjoyment in the marriage bed. I do hope you agree. Now, come sit beside your husband.”
Their eyes collided. Maura’s lips compressed. A taut silence stretched out.
Alec’s tone was very soft. “Come, Duchess, or I’ll come get you.”
Something blazed in those beautiful green eyes. Still she remained where she was. Either she was full of reckless daring ora fool to believe he wouldn’t follow through. Despite his previous decision to the contrary, he was just about to do exactly as he promised—proceed to the bedding of his wife—when she walked stiffly around the end of the bed and sat.
A full three feet away from him.
He would allow her that, he decided. For the moment, at least.
A tense silence cropped up again.
Alec studied her profile in silent speculation, navigating his next move, aware of a storm of feelings building inside him. Throughout the mounting silence, Maura maintained that air of distant coolness.
A battle of wills? he wondered. Or a battle of wits?
He considered. She’d been a virgin, but that hadn’t stopped her from acting the seductress, and the certainty served to fire his temper…as well as his desire. All at once he was determined to make her want him so much she could taste it. Crave him with a heat that met his own.
Because one thing had not changed. Despite his feelings of betrayal, he burned for her as much as he had the night of the masquerade. Dislike it, he did. Deny it, he could not. Her hair was down, a curtain of thick black waves around her shoulders. She stirred him. Stirred him unbelievably. Stirred him as no other woman had ever done.
She also spurned him as no other woman had ever done. Which was not wise. Not wise at all. Didn’t she realize it poseda challenge to any man? An affront? A purely primeval call to prove otherwise? Her youth was no excuse. She didn’t realize what she did to a man. Her flirtation…and his reaction to her the night of the masquerade merely confirmed it.
Alec’s move was quick and decisive. He glimpsed a fleeting alarm as he banded one arm around her waist and caught her chin between thumb and forefinger.
“You cannot deny me, Irish. And I will neither deny nor curtail my desire—our mutual desire. Or have you forgotten so quickly? You surrendered your virginity to me. Don’t you remember?”
