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Authors: Alexandra Hawkins

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical Romance, #Nineteenth Century, #1820's-1830's

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BOOK: Dusk With a Dangerous Duke
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She bowed her head, her expression a mix of sadness and shame.

Hunter wanted to flog himself for his selfishness.

“It wasn’t you,” he whispered. Although he had not earned the right, he reached out and traced the curve of her neck with his fingers. “I was young, wild … arrogant. I thought only of my own needs. It was wrong, and I would not blame you for despising me.”

Her head lifted in astonishment. “I do not hate you, Your Grace.”

“Hunter.”

Defeated, she sighed. “Hunter. We were both too young to offer much resistance to our family’s wishes. I am old enough to understand the reason why you preferred to forget about me, and a part of me even forgives you.”

It was an olive branch he had not expected.

“You do? Then we can—”

“Which is why I cannot marry you,” she said, speaking over his suggestion that they marry immediately.

Hunter tensed. “Why are you being so stubborn about this?”

“Because I think we both deserve a chance to be happy.” Grace stood before he could stop her. “I deserve to be happy.”

“By marrying a man handpicked by Lady Netherley?” he thundered, enraged at the thought.

“I might.” She grinned down at him. “Is it any different from marrying you?”

“Christ … damn it,” he swore, rising to his feet and stalking after her. “Yes, it is. I am the man your grandfather entrusted to marry his granddaughter.”

“He was wrong.”

It was a painful admission, even if it was the truth. “I have disappointed you, and there is nothing I can do to alter the past. However, I can change the present and our future. Your uncle—”

“Cannot be trusted any more than you can be,” she finished for him. “No, I refuse to listen to your promises of a rosy future.”

Hunter grabbed her by the arm and pulled her against him. “Who promised you a rosy marriage, Lady Grace?” he asked roughly. “You have already deduced that I am not a good man.”

“No … you are dangerous,” she whispered, her head tipping back as he pulled her closer.

“Our marriage will not be something to feather the pillow of a young maiden’s dreams. It will be tumultuous because you like to defy me. You may spend your days doing as wish, but your nights belong to me.” He caressed her face. “I am a demanding lover. Each night I will strip you naked and explore every inch of your body. My tongue will taste the unique flavors of your curves, as I pleasure you with my hands … my coc—”

“Enough!” she begged.

Her body trembled against his.

“You will beg me, Duchess. However, it won’t be pleasing for me to stop. Once I have claimed your body, you will hunger for my touch.”

“Never!”

“Such a little innocent. I have had years to hone my skills, Grace. You will not resist me for long. Why deny yourself? I will employ everything I have learned to pleasure you. Soon your body will long for me. It is only a matter of time that your heart and mind will follow. I will instruct you—”

“Please.” She closed her eyes as if the gesture could silence him.

“Yes, to please me,” he said, allowing himself the luxury of rubbing his aroused body against her hip. “I promise you that you will relish everything I will do to you. So much so, you will want to explore me as well. I look forward to the night you ask to take my c—”

She placed her fingers over his mouth.

He nibbled her gloved fingers, parted them with his tongue. “Into my mouth, Grace. Over and over. Night after night. You will take me as a lover and rejoice in our joining.”

She cried out a soft denial, but Hunter was in no mood to soothe her. Perhaps he had frightened her a little with his needs, but she had had nineteen years to prepare for him.

He suddenly realized he was tired of waiting for her.

Hunter nudged aside her fingers and captured her mouth. He was not gentle in his claiming. His mouth slid over hers, rubbing and teasing until she parted her lips. It was an invitation he could not resist. He pushed his tongue, demanding entry, and she was too innocent to deny him. She stiffened when his tongue stroked hers, but she did not make the mistake of biting him. At first, she merely endured. He could only imagine her maidenly thoughts as his mouth hinted at the carnal demands of his body.

If there were no fear of discovery, he might have laid her down onto the grass. He could have pleasured her and himself without removing their clothing. All he had to do was unfasten his trousers and—

“Enough,” he rasped, tearing his mouth away from hers. His hand slid to his swollen cock, which was pinched at an unpleasant angle. To free himself would only end with him taking her innocence here and now.

“Go. Return to the ballroom,” he said, breathing heavily as he battled his desire to take her. “Regan will keep you company until I return.”

“W—what about you?” Grace stammered, sounding winded.

“I need a few minutes.” How did one explain the workings of man’s body to an innocent such as his duchess? “Just leave me.”

She mistook his harshness for rejection. “Fine! But don’t bother searching for me. I will be leaving immediately. In a matter of days, I will no longer be your concern.”

“Grace, wait,” he called out, but she was already stomping away in a high fury. Nothing he could say would convince her that he had sent her away for her own good.

“Great,” he muttered, reaching for the buttons of his trousers before his lust twisted his damn cock off.

 

Chapter Seventeen

“I’m pretty certain kidnapping is considered a crime.”

Hunter wondered if Regan would forgive him if he quietly strangled her husband. His defense, should it be required, would be that the gent had provoked him.

“Really?” he drawled. “Tell me again the romantic tale of how you convinced Regan to marry you without her brother in attendance?”

Dare, the annoying hypocrite, had climbed into his lady’s window and proceeded to seduce her. Once he had gained her cooperation, he had whisked her off to be secretly married before Frost had deduced his friend’s plans.

Hunter marveled at Frost’s restraint for not murdering his new brother-in-law when he learned of the couple’s elopement. There was no doubt that the two men occasionally disagreed about what was best for Regan. Nonetheless, Regan was in love with her husband, and the one person Frost genuinely loved was his sister. He would never do anything to ruin her happiness.

“I did not kidnap Regan.” Dare frowned. “Not precisely.”

“What my husband is trying to say is that I was a willing participant, once I was aware of his plans,” Regan said, carrying several blankets for their journey.

Behind her, Frost and several servants followed, their arms laden with provisions that they would need for the journey.

“’Tis a pity no one felt inclined to share these plans with me. I might have offered to give you a proper wedding,” Frost said coolly.

He might have accepted Regan’s marriage to Dare, but he was not above reminding them that they had excluded him from the festivities.

Regan crossed over to her older sibling and kissed him on the cheek before he could turn away. “I had a proper wedding, as you call it. What would have made it perfect was having you beside us.”

“Do I need to remind you that you forbade me to speak to your sister?” Dare asked, sounding annoyed.

Frost dismissed the old troubles between them with a wave. “I’d rather not. The rehashing of old news will turn an already trying journey into days of misery. I, for one, am in favor of forgetting the whole thing.”

“Thank you, brother.” She hugged her brother, then slipped her unencumbered arms around Dare so she could embrace both men. “I’ll admit I have a few trepidations about leaving our son behind while we go on an adventure.”

“He won’t even notice you are gone,” Frost argued, earning a sharp pinch on his arm. “Ow … damn harpy!”

“I am his mother. Show some respect,” she grumbled, her face darkening with worry.

Hunter felt a stab of guilt. Perhaps he had been selfish to ask Dare and Regan to join them on this trip to Gretna Green. The couple had seemed the right choice because Grace and Regan had become close friends over a short period of time. They were similar in age, and both ladies had grown up without a mother to guide them. He had thought Grace would be amendable to being kidnapped if she was surrounded by friends.

“If you must decline, I will understand,” Hunter said, wondering if he could convince Saint and Catherine to join them.

“Nonsense,” Frost said, speaking over his sister. “The boy will be fine without his mother and father for a few days. Juliana will spoil him as if he were her own babe, and Sin will protect all of them with his life.”

Regan’s lower lip trembled as her eyes filled with unexpected tears. “I know.” She sniffed. “I will just miss him.”

Dare gathered his wife up into his arms and embraced her. In her ear, he whispered, “Come away and misbehave, and we might be able to give our spoiled boy a sibling.”

Regan laughed. “Oh, you would like that, would you not?”

“Yes.” Dare’s gaze shifted to his friends. “That is, if we can find a moment or two to slip away from our chaperones.”

Hunter and Frost walked to the other side of the coach as Dare continued to tease and whisper wicked promises into his wife’s ear. Her laughter filled the air.

“Dare has a way with Regan,” Frost said, staring blindly down the street.

“He loves her, Frost.”

His friend grunted, accepting the explanation, even if he had never experienced the feelings himself. “It’s a good thing Dare can charm his way out of trouble. When Regan figures out that you intend to marry Grace with or without her permission, you will lose her support.”

“Then we will refrain from sharing that detail of the plan with her,” Hunter said, telling himself that this was the wisest course. The elopement would solve most of his problems. Grace’s uncle would no longer be able to challenge Hunter’s rights to her inheritance, and his marriage would put an end to his cousin’s hope that he might one day claim the dukedom.

Once he was married to Grace, getting her with child would quell any remaining arguments.

All he needed was for Grace to agree.

Although she denied it, the picnic along the river had to be Regan’s suggestion. The demands on Hunter were numerous, and Grace could not believe he had decided to shirk his duty to spend the afternoon with her.

“He’s courting you,” Regan had confided. “Give him a chance to prove to you and himself that you mean more to him than keeping his word to his grandmother.”

Clearly, her friend saw something in him that others had not. She did not trust his sudden concern about her welfare, and her uncle had managed to plant his own seeds of doubt about the duke’s motives for marrying her. Her uncle insisted it was greed. He reminded her that her inheritance had been claimed by Hunter almost from the beginning. He had nurtured and broadened her investments, and thanks to him she was a very rich woman. Her uncle explained that over time Hunter had come to view these investments as his own.

Hunter’s cousin, Roland Walker, had his own theory about Hunter’s affection. He claimed his cousin was driven by pride. Mr. Walker argued that not only did the duke covet her wealth, but he was also determined to fulfill the conditions of the marriage contract set forth by his grandmother. Otherwise, he would have to forfeit certain properties that were owned by the dowager and were not connected to the dukedom. If Hunter failed to marry Grace before her birthday, then Mr. Walker would inherit the dowager’s lands.

Grace had witnessed the rivalry between the two cousins. Hunter was adamant that he not lose his grandmother’s lands to a cousin who did not deserve them.

Was the inconvenience of an arranged marriage just another sacrifice allowing Hunter to keep what he thought as his? Both her uncle and Mr. Walker had presented a valid case for her to distrust Hunter.

If not for Regan promising that her husband and Frost would be joining them on the picnic, Grace might have refused the invitation.

They had left town to find a tranquil spot along the river, and the two-hour journey north had been worth it. The landscape was breathtaking and in its own way reminded her of Frethwell Hall. She had forgotten how much she missed the quiet beauty of the countryside. It was almost as if they were the only people left in the world.

“More wine?” Hunter asked solicitously.

With Regan, Dare, and Frost as chaperones, the duke had not tried to kiss her, which was a pity. The wine had warmed her belly and spread to her head. If Hunter had invited her to stroll along the banks of the river, she would have accepted. Away from their friends’ watchful gazes, he would have kissed her.

“I shouldn’t really,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “You’ve poured two glasses into me.”

Hunter filled her glass anyway. “It is a picnic. You are supposed to overindulge.”

Grace nodded, and pleased him and her by taking another sip. “I do not have a problem with gluttony. It’s making a fool of myself in front of you and your friends that worries me. I am unused to this wine.”

She scowled when Hunter’s face blurred. “I do not feel … something.” Grace shook her head and was grateful when the duke’s handsome face came into focus. “There you are. I feel strange.”

Hunter reached out to prevent her from losing her footing. “Finish your wine, and then you can take a nap if you wish.”

Grace tipped her head back in an exaggerated manner and swallowed the final drops. She laughed, unable to prevent the glass from slipping from her fingers.

“So clumsy.” She attempted to reach for the glass but Hunter caught her hand and pulled her close.

“Don’t worry about it. I have plenty more,” he assured her as the world spun them around.

The edges of her vision darkened. “Hunter?” she gasped, fear lacing her voice. “I am losing you.” Again his face blurred.

“No, my stubborn girl, I’ve got you,” he said, picking her up and cradling her against his chest.

In the distance, Grace heard Regan cry out. She turned her head but the movement made her dizzy. A single word echoed in her fuzzy head.

BOOK: Dusk With a Dangerous Duke
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