Page 51 of My Dearest Duke

Going back?

Was Kingston mad?

Vanessa wanted this with every part of her being. Wanted to make love with her husband. She had, in all honesty, since he’d kissed her that first time almost a month ago.

No, before that.

When she’d exited the alcove at Fortuna and seen him standing there, all majestic, tantalizing maleness.

She appreciated this meant that there would be no annulment, and she reveled in the knowledge just as she would rejoice in their joining.

To remain married to this enigmatic, remarkable man.

To bear his children.

Oh, God, yes. Yes.

“I know, Kingston.” Tears stung behind her closed eyelids. “I know.”

Vanessa loved him. She needed to show him with her body what she couldn’t say with words just yet.

“Are you absolutely positive, love?” He rubbed his thumb over her swollen lower lip, and she playfully bit it.

“I want this, Kingston. I want you.”

Then, before he could object and rather amazed at her boldness, she shimmied out of her gown, leaving her standing before him in only her stays, stockings, and slippers. She supposed she ought to be embarrassed, but instead, she felt empowered.

Bold. Daring. Seductive.

“My God, you are exquisite, Nessa.” As Kingston took her in, his gaze traveling the length of her in a sensual, visual caress, his eyes darkened to navy blue. “Perfection. A goddess.”

“Then why don’t you worship me with your body?” she teased.

“Oh, make no mistake, love. I intend to.” His voice deepened to a low, husky rasp. “And then you’ll be mine.”

“Yes. Make me yours, Kingston.”

With a growl, he shucked his coat and shirt in rapid succession.

She licked her lower lip and laid her palms on his chest, running her fingers through the soft mat of springy hair there. Letting her curiosity guide her, she trailed her fingertips lower, over the stairsteps of his torso, smiling to herself as his sinewy muscles quivered beneath her touch.

He was sculpted, molded, masculine perfection.

When she hesitated at the waistband of his trousers, suddenly uncertain, he covered her hand. “I’ll do that.” His throaty timbre rasped across her, causing a little shiver of scorching desire to tingle its way over her raised flesh.

Good Lord, such unfamiliar heat singed her that she might very well burst into flames.

“You lie down.” He jerked his chin toward the settee.

They were truly going to do this. In the drawing room. On the settee. Where anyone might come upon them.

Hopefully, the closed door ought to deter all but the most impertinent.

To hide her nervousness as Kingston stripped away the last of his clothing, Vanessa presented her back, concentrating on removing her stays with trembling fingers. She wasn’t quite brave enough to watch him disrobe. She’d just kicked off her slippers and reached to untie the ribbon holding her stocking when he came up behind her and rested his hand over hers.

“Leave them.”

The hard contours of his torso and chest pressed into her shoulder blades, the curly hair tickling her.