What the Duke Wants (26 page)

And she was still in her underpinnings.

Softly, he tugged, unlaced, and removed every last barrier. His touch was methodical, possessive and like sparks causing her body to ignite in a delicious fever. Once finished, he reached down lacing his fingers within hers, gripping them tightly as he slowly let his gaze travel down, stepping back he took her in, completely bare.

The embarrassment that she anticipated in such an intimacy never surfaced. Rather she found that she felt bolder. Stronger. Like she had faced her greatest fear and realized it was never a fear to begin with. Taking a deep breath, she smiled and lifted their interlaced hands… and spun slowly, like a dance. His gasp caused her to smile, a knowing smile that only a woman as desired, as loved as she could ever experience. With their hands still raised, he released her hand and trailed his caress down her arms, flowing over her most sensitive areas and resting on her stomach. He pressed into her belly till she stepped back and she was flush against him. Her eyes drifted closed.

“I love you,” he whispered as he kissed her neck. “But I do believe I’m reaching my limits…”

“Oh?”

“Hmm,” he murmured against her skin as his hands roamed her hips, squeezing them and rubbing his jaw against the curve of her shoulder.

“Perhaps I can help.” Turning in his arms, she reached up, glanced up into his smoldering gaze and began to untie his cravat. The soft silk floated to the floor. Reaching up on her toes, she kissed his neck as she began to unbutton his white shirt after she removed his jacket. His pulse raced against her lips, his breathing far more unsteady than earlier.

Carlotta rejoiced in the knowledge that she was the one causing it.

Once his shirt was loosened she slid her hands over his warm chest, across the hardened planes until it fell to the floor along with his cravat and coat. With a wicked grin, one she didn’t know she possessed, she reached down to remove the last barriers between them. Biting her lip, she made quick work of the remaining clothing till she was free to do some exploring of her own.

Taking a step back, she followed his example earlier and walked in a slow circle, studying him, memorizing every hardened plane and every valley in the ‘V’ of his back. Never could she have imagined the magnificent appearance of a naked man. He was perfect, solid, strong and gazing at her as if there was no one else in the world. She stilled, not quite knowing what to do next.

She should have known that he’d take command.

He always did.

Without a word he swept her into his arms and laid her on the bed, covering her with his body as he kissed her deeply, his hands raking over her body in desperation

An emotion she was learning to appreciate.

He was so warm, setting her skin on fire every place his skin touched hers.

Which was everywhere.

It was delicious, it was overwhelming. It was perfect.

“I—Carlotta, I might… as in… the first time I might cause you some pain.”

“Pain?”

“Bloody hell… please tell me you know what I’m talking about,” he swore, his face a mask of determined passion.

“I trust you,” she whispered, closing her eyes and giving herself over to the feel of him.

“But—”

“I trust you, Charles. I love you, I’m quite mad with it, if you cannot already tell. There’s nothing I want more than for you to make me yours. In. Every. Way.”

“Carlotta.” He groaned and kissed her fiercely, as if a man starved.

Then he moved.

And everything Carlotta imagined about the intimacy of marriage was put to shame as she discovered what the physical act of love could do.

Her world rose.

It fell.

It shattered into a million pieces of light.

And never had she felt more whole. More loved.

It was the amazing feeling of being completed and realizing the missing piece she had always been missing was found in someone else. Not herself.

It was blissful, amazing and she had the whole experience to look forward to for the rest of her life.

Charles pulled her into the cocoon of his warmth as he lay beside her. His soft breath tickled her hair as she leaned against him and felt the rapid beating of his heart against her back, knowing hers was pounding just as hard.

“I love you,” she murmured against his arm as it curved around her, pulling her in tight.

“I love you.” He took in a breath, as if preparing to say something then thinking better of it.

“What were you going to say?” she asked, turning in his embrace to face him.

“I was going to say something then thought better of it.”

“Oh? Why?”

“Because I want nothing more than to live, to dwell in this perfect moment. Life happens, Carlotta, but when these perfect moments happen, you have to live in them, own them, commit them to memory so that you have them with you always.”

“When did you get so wise?”

“I have had the unfortunate necessity of learning from my mistakes.”

“Haven’t we all?”

“Perhaps, but I have quite a list of sins, my love.” He paused and raised an eyebrow. “What I was going to say was… never in all my life, my sordid, blasted and black past have I ever experienced what we completed this night, ever. Nor could I have ever imagined that love could feel like this. What I’m trying to say is that whatever my sins, that is one thing I can give you that I’ve given no one else. You have my heart. It’s never been given to another and in that, you are my first, my last and only.”

“Thank you,” she whispered and kissed his forehead, closing her eyes and doing just as he suggested; owning the moment, memorizing it. “I’ll guard it with my life. Guard mine too.”

“With my life.”

****

Good Lord,
why weren’t there more children in the world?

So maybe it wasn’t the most romantic thought, it was still the first thought in Carlotta’s mind when she awoke, nestled in the shelter of her husband’s arms, with his very warm, very tempting skin on hers, and her memory all too vivid from their night of passion.

Yes, it was a strange thing that there were not thousands of babies born every day if
that
was how it came about.

Groggily he shifted so that the sheet covering her didn’t actually cover her any longer. For a split second, she thought about pulling it up.

For propriety sake.

And then realized she was being quite proper being undressed, naked, and languid.

Because she was married. Every warning flag of passion was now a white flag of surrender. It was intoxicating, it was freeing and it gave her imagination far too much to work with.

Sighing in satisfaction, she nestled deeper into his embrace, drinking in the scent, the sunlight spinning into their room, the soft cadence of his breathing.

And was home.

****

Charles awoke to the soft press of his wife’s body nestled into his chest. Before he even opened his eyes, he could smell the sweet scent of her skin, the fragrance of her hair…
lemons?
And the perfect curve of her hips fitting against his.

And gone was the tranquil moment.

Rather, all he wanted to do was explore her again, and again and then after perhaps a break for food and water… again. Every experience he had prior to last night was pathetic, cheap and a rather poor imitation of what love could truly feel like.

It was poetic; deeper than the physical, it was stronger than any words, it was… without description. But he felt it all the same. Deep in his heart, his soul.

It was madness.

It was absolutely perfect and he couldn’t wait for each new sunrise where he’d find himself beside his
wife.

With a wicked grin, he allowed his gaze to greedily take in her exposed shoulder, creamy and soft, perfectly curved, a delightful preamble to the curves to be found just beyond.

He placed a kiss to the very sensitive place he discovered last night, right where her neck and shoulder met, and lingered there, teasing the flesh with his tongue.

“You’re awake.” She spoke softly, a grin evident in her tone.

“Indeed,” he murmured against her skin.

If she were planning on saying anything else, he’d never know. Because before she had a chance, he was spinning her around, finding the sweet delight of her mouth and restarting everything they explored the night before.

Epilogue

“You’re beautiful! Miss Lottie!” Berty spun around her chambers, her dress sailing out like an umbrella. They had debated on what the girls should call her now, technically she wasn’t a ‘miss’ any longer, but old habits die hard, and well… it was quite nostalgic to hear their voices call her ‘Miss Lottie’ still. Though Charles had requested they used ‘your grace’ in front of company.

Which wasn’t often.

Thank goodness. It had been several weeks and she still couldn’t quite believe she was a duchess.

Duchess.

No matter how many times she repeated it, it never stuck. But she suspected it was because she didn’t actually care for the title, rather she simply cared for the man who gave it to her.

Charles.

“Are you ready yet, Love? There’s a fine line between fashionably late and simply late,” Charles teased as he made his way into the room. But before he could finish the teasing remark, he paused.

“Take it off.”

“What?” Carlotta blushed crimson and glanced to Berty, who had paused mid twirl with a very confused look on her face.

“You cannot wear that!” Charles’ gaze darkened, much like it did when alone with her… and she was well…
taking it off.

“Charles!”

“Not—” He glanced to Berty quickly. “—like
that.
” He shook his head as if her coming to that conclusion was insane. “You… It… I’m a jealous man, Carlotta, and if one dandy so much as blinks in the direction of your… charms…” He coughed with a quick glance to Berty, who was watching with rapt attention. “Well, I’ll not be responsible for my actions,” he finished.

“But… this is what Lady Southridge picked for me to wear to our first ball.”

“Bloody hell, I should have guessed. That damn woman will kill me.”

“I think she looks like a fairy princess,” Berty added, helpfully.

“Berty.” Charles paused then walked gently to the little girl. Bending down he met her at eye level. “Carlotta is the most beautiful, most perfect princess in the world. Never once did I mean that she was not. Forgive my outburst, young lady. If you are so set on the dress, then she may wear it. Provided… she doesn’t leave my side and she wears a very large fur cape.”

“Large fur cape?” Carlotta asked with a daring raise of her eyebrow.

“Very, very large.”

“But then no one will see her dress!”

“Exactly.”

“You never use to be so stuffy,” she crossed her arms, narrowing her childlike gaze at him.

“I—” He closed his mouth. Narrowed his eyes and… then grinned.

“I suppose finding out I have a heart after all does that to a man,” he teased, tickling her nose with his finger.

Carlotta held her smile in check, she was so thankful for the deepening of the relationship between the girls and her husband. Being married had brought out a protective side she would have never assumed existed.

But exist it did, quite fiercely.

Heaven help the suitors who pursued the girls.

“Your grace.” Berty rolled her eyes, but grinned. “So she can wear the dress?”

“Yes. But if I injure a man. I’m blaming you.”

“Very well.” She shrugged and walked away, leaving them alone.

“So yes or no?” Carlotta pointed the dress, spinning slowly.

“Only if I get the honor of taking it off… and possibly mangling it so that you cannot wear it again,” he teased as he strode forward and kissed her favorite spot just at the base of her neck.

“We’ll be late.”

“I don’t care.”

“Yes you do.”

“No. I do not. Quit arguing with me.”

“I—”

“Miss Lottie!” Bethanny strode in, her face flushed and her eyes dancing.

“Yes?” Carlotta backed away from his embrace, cheeks flushing as well, but quite curious as to Bethanny’s expression.

“You have guest. Actually
two
guests, but Lady Southridge isn’t exactly a guest, she’s family.”

“Oh? Who is the other guest?” Carlotta asked before Charles could make a remark.

Bethanny blushed deeper, her eyes lowering for a moment. “Lord Graham, her brother. I’ve been informed that he’s just returned from Scotland.” She finished, but her tone was far more breathless at the end of her statement then at the beginning.

What if…

“We’ll see him immediately,” Carlotta nodded, her curiosity flaring.

“We will? Yes…”Charles cleared his throat.” We will.” He gave Carlotta a confused expression and then furrowed his brow as his gaze dipped lower, and then rose again a question in his eyes.

“Later,” she whispered, then followed Bethanny out.

Not for the first time, Carlotta took note of how Bethanny was growing up, growing into herself. Her long chestnut hair was heavy and curled just enough to make it a dream to work with. Her figure had filled out as well, and like a mother watching her baby chick try to fly, Carlotta felt her throat constrict at the idea that someday, possibly soon, she’d test her wings.

They arrived in the red parlor in their London home. The same parlor that had been filled, utterly filled with well wishers, and the insanely curious,
ton
upon their arrival not so long ago. The ball tonight was to introduce the Duchess Clairmont to the world.

Lord Graham was facing the window; looking very much like the first time she had met him. His sandy blond hair and green eyes were every bit as dangerous as Charles, but there was a teasing light to him, a lack of brooding that gave him a far less intimidating manner. His face lit up in a warming grin when he turned around upon their entrance.

“You devil! I didn’t think you’d actually take my advice!” Lord Graham teased, striding forward and shaking Charles’ hand.