My Once and Future Duke (The Wagers of Sin #1)(47)

After a while she stirred. “Jack,” she whispered, brushing one fingertip over the stubble on his chin. “Your Grace.”

That made his eyes open. “I thought we agreed you wouldn’t call me that.”

She laughed and propped her hands under her chin on his chest. “What happens now?”

“Breakfast?” he suggested. “We don’t even need to leave the bed. Wilson will have it served right here.”

“Right.” She drew her fingers across his collarbone, and he almost moaned in satisfaction. “But after that. When we return to London.”

“It might yet start raining again,” he said with a hopeful glance at the sun streaming through the windows.

She snorted with laughter. “Jack!”

“You’re still determined to return.” He made a face. “If we must.”

She settled beside him, and he felt almost chilled at the absence of her skin on his. He couldn’t get close enough to her, even when he slid his arm around her and pulled her against him again. “I certainly must,” she said with a sigh. “I’ve been away too long as it is . . .”

“Not long enough, if you ask me.” He caught a stray lock of her hair and gave a gentle tug. “Where shall we find such privacy in London?”

She seemed to stop breathing, her eyes round with surprise. “You mean—-you mean to . . . ?”

He nodded. “Of course I want to see you again.”

Her smile was the sweetest thing he’d ever seen. A burst of happiness warmed his chest. God almighty, just making her smile made him feel like a king. “Truly?”

Jack laughed in disbelief. “How can you doubt me, darling?” He ran his hands up her bare back, then down to her splendid bottom. “It will be more difficult in town, obviously, but a little planning ought to suffice. I can let a house, for privacy. Near yours, if you wish, or anywhere in town.”

Her face went blank. “A house.”

“Near yours.” He kissed her neck, ignoring the small jerk as she turned her head away. “I know discretion is vital in these matters. You may choose it, if you like, and do anything you want to it.” He tried to pull her closer. They might have to return to London, but not just yet . . .

She resisted, bracing her arms on his shoulders. “I don’t want to be a kept woman.”

“Then don’t be,” he said after a pause. “Be as you are now—-but slip out at nights to meet me.”

“I go to the Vega Club at nights,” she began.

“Then in the afternoon. In the morning before anyone else wakes. I can make love to you any time of day.”

“It’s not that simple,” she said, worrying her lower lip.

“It can be.” He kissed her shoulder.

“No,” she whispered. “No, Jack.” She slid from his arms and sat up, her back to him. “It’s not. We—-we ought to have discussed that before now.”

Jack went up on his elbow to watch as she pulled on his banyan, tugging her hair free of the collar and sending the rumpled mass of dark waves sliding over the blue velvet. God, how he liked the sight of her in his dressing gown. “I’m in no hurry to leave. We have time to discuss anything you like.”

Sophie stood up and tied the sash. “I never expected anything like this would happen, you know.”

“Nor did I.” He held up one hand in innocence at the glance she shot him. “I swear it.”

She bit her lip. “Then you understand why we can’t see each other again.”

“Of cour—-” He stopped in the middle of blind agreement with whatever she said. “What?”

Color flooded her face. “We can’t see each other after this,” she said again. “No one must know about . . . this. You know why.”

Jack stared. No, he wanted to snarl, he did not know.

“If you don’t, you will once we are back in town. Philip—-” She paused and frowned, without looking at him. “Philip told me enough about you and the requirements of your title, and obviously during our time together I’ve seen . . . I understand, really, I do. But my position is far more delicate, and I—-” She took a deep breath. “I would not fit into your life, nor you into mine.”

Jack lurched upright. “Don’t be ridiculous. One of the benefits of being a duke, my dear. I can do what I want.”

“We both know that’s not entirely true,” she answered quietly. “You have responsibilities, far beyond saving Philip from himself. But I . . . I cannot do whatever I wish. I also have a reputation to guard, and this . . .” Her voice wavered. “This interlude would irreparably harm it. I haven’t a title to shield me from ruin.”

“Who said anything about ruin?” he demanded.

She paused, blinking several times. “What—-what do you mean?”

Yes, what did he mean? He wanted to wake up with her in his bed more often, but there were only a few ways that would happen: if she were his mistress, his lover, or his wife. And only one of those offered no possibility of scandal for a respectable widow.

Jack swung his legs over the side of the bed and stalked to the windows to glare at the bucolic scene below. She’d said she didn’t want to be his mistress. She also wouldn’t risk being his lover. And that left only one option, which was simply impossible. Because it would be madness even to think of anything more than an affair with a woman he barely knew. Wouldn’t it?