The Duke of Defiance (The Untouchables #5)(48)

“No.”

He winced—a very quick tightening of the muscles around his eyes—and if she’d blinked she would’ve missed it. “Is it that you’re still committed to your husband’s memory?”

A dark laugh escaped her. She’d done a very good job of hiding the failure that was her marriage. So much so that people kept wondering if she was still in love with Matthias. She’d never loved him. She’d hoped to, but he’d crushed that on their wedding night. “Definitely not.”

Knighton’s brows had climbed at her reaction and now his gaze flickered with approval. “I see,” he murmured. He moved forward, narrowing the gap between them to what it had been. “So why refuse me? I want you—very much, if truth be told, and I suspect you want me too.”

She did. Also very much. Hell and damnation, this was a terrible tangle. “I can’t. I’m not… You wouldn’t enjoy it.”

His eyes widened briefly before he blinked. Then he stared at her, his lips parting. “I beg your pardon?”

Oh, this was too humiliating. “You need to leave.”

He closed the distance between them and took her hand. He was warm where she was ice cold. “I would too enjoy it.”

She tossed his words back at him. “How can you be certain?”

He raked his gaze over her, lingering on her breasts before skimming the rest of her body and then coming back up to rest on her face. “Because I am.”

“Well, I am not.” She tried to pull her hand free, but he tugged her against him until their chests met. She gasped, and he wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her captive to him.

“You’re trembling,” he said softly, rubbing his thumb along the back of her hand. “Why are you afraid?”

“I’m not afraid.”

“You’re lying. Tell me. Have you any reason not to trust me?”

She didn’t. “It’s too…horrifying.”

“Let me understand. You were married eight years, and you think I wouldn’t enjoy bedding you. That leads me to think your idiot husband said he didn’t enjoy bedding you. There was clearly something wrong with him.”

Nothing he said could’ve been more perfect. Jo let out another laugh, this one loud and sharp. She quickly covered her mouth with her free hand.

Bran’s brow arched. “I’m right, then. See, the problem was him, not you. You are lovely and beautiful, and you make my teeth ache with need.”

His words enflamed her, tempting her to do exactly as he suggested and invite him into her bed. But there had to be a million reasons she shouldn’t. Unfortunately—or perhaps fortunately—she couldn’t think of one.

For some reason, she told him the truth. “Matthias could barely reach completion. He said it was my fault, that a real woman would satisfy him. It turned out he preferred the company of men—I caught him a few years ago with his lover. He said that was my fault too, that my lack of skill and inability to give him a child had driven him to find solace elsewhere.”

“It’s a very good thing he’s dead.” Bran uttered the words with such chilling menace that Jo shivered. “Everything he ever said to you is a lie.”

God, how she loved his chivalrous defense. It only made her want him more. “But what if it isn’t?”

“It doesn’t seem to be enough for me to tell you that I know. So let me show you.” He let go of her hand and brought his fingertips to her face. He lightly traced her lips with the pad of his thumb and caressed along her jaw. “I’ll ask you again: will you invite me to your bed?”

She should say no, but she was past the point of should and ought. She wanted to believe what he said but knew she needed to experience it for herself.

She slipped her arms around his waist and pressed her body into his. “Yes.”

“Oh, good.”

He lowered his mouth to hers, his hand cupping her face as he kissed her. Softly at first, then more deeply as his tongue delved past her lips and explored her mouth. Thoughts and memories of Matthias drifted away under the onslaught of Bran’s seduction. She gave herself over completely to him.

His hand moved to the back of her head, clasping her to him as he speared into her mouth. The kiss blossomed into something she’d never experienced—it was hot and wet and filled with desperation. She dug her fingers into his lower back.

He steered her sideways and pivoted her until she felt the bed against her backside. He lifted her and set her on the edge, parting her legs so he could stand between them. Her night rail didn’t allow her thighs to completely open, but it was enough that he stood flush with the bed.

Sliding his lips along hers, he moved the kiss to her cheek and jaw, trailing heat to her earlobe and then down along her neck. All this was new territory, her flesh tingling with desire and her core throbbing with need. Not once had she felt this…this lust. Maybe there wasn’t something wrong with her after all.

But just because she felt this way didn’t mean he did.

Except he seemed rather engaged. His hand came up and cupped her breast through her night clothes. Her nipple pulled taut and hard beneath his touch, and she gasped.

He slipped her robe from her shoulders, and it fell down her arms. She pulled them free, and the garment pooled on the bed around her. The neckline of her night rail was rather large, and he tugged it to the side so that he could push her breast up over the edge.