The Mad, Bad Duke (Nvengaria #2)(26)

“And she can shoot him, presumably.”

“Only in certain circumstances. I will teach you to use a pistol, so that if those circumstances arise and you must shoot me, you will do it cleanly, through the heart. No lingering death.”

Meagan blinked. “Good heavens, Alexander, I would never shoot you.”

“You could. I see it in you. You have a heart of steel, my love, and a temper as well.”

“How can you know that? I only met you last night.”

Alexander released the chair and walked around the desk toward her. To his joy, she did not back away. “Because you are standing here, alone with me, firing words back at me. I ravished you, I took your virginity, and yet I did not find you today sunk in illness or hysteria. You came here and faced me with the truth. You are strong.” He cupped her face. “I have never met a woman so strong as you.”

“Lady Anastasia seems quite capable,” Meagan said faintly.

“She used to be strong, but the death of her husband robbed her of her heart. She is … broken.”

“Oh, poor woman.”

Alexander traced Meagan’s lower lip. “She was married to a Nvengarian, and when he died Anastasia nearly died with him. She works to take vengeance on those who caused his death, and she will use whomever she must to reach that goal. She has a good heart, but her grief has blinded her.”

“You know much about people,” Meagan said, her mouth moving against his thumb.

“I have been forced to. I took Anastasia to my bed in the past, but she went there only to further her own agenda.”

Meagan’s eyes flickered at his admission. “And why were you there?”

“To further my agenda. There was never love between us, nor will there ever be. But we have cultivated the myth of an affair because it suits our purposes. I tell you this so that when other people whisper titillating gossip about us, you are prepared for it.”

“I see.”

Meagan clearly did not. Alexander would have to teach her about his world from the ground up. “We have laid down layers of lies, Anastasia and I. It is necessary, in order to deceive those we need to deceive. You, as my wife, will know the truth, but when you hear the lies from others, you must not correct them. Can you do that?”

Meagan’s cinnamon-colored brows drew together. “You mean, instead of stilling wagging tongues, you wish me to help you keep them wagging?”

“About certain things, yes.”

“Gracious, how odd. I obviously know very little about intrigue.”

Alexander’s life, on the other hand, was all about intrigue. “I will teach you. I will teach you so much.” He slid his fingers across Meagan’s cheek, catching a lock of her hair. “Are you willing to learn?”

She looked doubtful. “You will give me intrigue lessons?”

“You will have lessons in many things.” Alexander leaned to her and traced her cheekbone with the tip of his tongue, the taste of her making him tight with need. “I will teach you to receive all the pleasure I can give you, and then teach you to pleasure me. How we can enjoy pleasure together.”

“Like last night?” Meagan asked, voice shaking.

“Last night was clumsy. I was not myself, and I rushed things. What we will have will be slow and practiced. There are cults in Nvengaria that teach the art of pleasuring—it is an amazing control of mind and body. I spent a year in one of these cults as part of my training for the duties of Grand Duke. Now I will be teacher.”

Alexander felt the shiver through her body as he lightly kissed her skin. “Husbands and wives teach each other,” he said softly. “Are you willing to learn from me?”

“What could I possibly teach you?” Her voice was no more than a breath.

“Goodness,” Alexander answered. “And courage. You have so much of it, and I have so little.”

She closed her eyes, tilting her head back as his light kisses touched her face. “I do not feel particularly filled with goodness at the moment.”

“You are.” Her skin was soft beneath his lips. “You do not fear me. Nor do you hate me.”

“It is the love spell,” Meagan said in barely a whisper. “Nothing we can do about it.”

“You are forgiving.” Alexander kissed the corner of her mouth. “I taste it in you.”

Meagan turned her head to meet his kiss. No, the spell had not dwindled. The touch of Meagan’s lips made him want to stay here with her and to hell with assassins, spies, and Nvengarian intrigue. He curled his tongue into her mouth, and she made a little noise in her throat as she laced her hands round his neck.

Meagan Tavistock might be unnerved by Alexander and his abrupt proposal, but she wanted him. He felt the threads of the love spell wrapping him, telling him to let his hand drift to the swell of her breast, to enjoy the softness of her.

Alexander’s blood heated as the point of her nipple rose into his palm, the urges of his ancestry running true.

He’d never experienced these longings with his late wife. Sephronia had kept her own lovers, and she and Alexander had never shared deep passion. They’d made love like friends or casual lovers, and after Sephronia had become pregnant with little Alex, she and Alexander had shared a bed only on rare occasions. Alexander had fulfilled his physical needs with women he trusted, but he’d never fallen in love with them.