Loved by a Duke (The Heart of a Duke #4)(40)

Auric recoiled in such horror that would have stung painfully if his reaction weren’t so very un-Auric-like. “God, no.”

Well, so much for that particular wish. She tamped down a sigh and, lest he look too close and see the hope she carried in her heart etched upon her face, she leaned over and patted his knee. “Rest assured, Auric. I was merely teasing.” He stiffened. At her words? The boldness of her touch? Regardless, she lied to him. She’d take him as her husband under any circumstance, if he simply uttered those three words.

He slashed a hand through the air. “I’m here to discuss the matter of your husband.”

“I don’t have a husband,” she couldn’t resist teasing. But she had a particular duke who would do splendidly. If the foolish man would but open his eyes and see.

When you love something enough as you do, it will come… Lionel’s whispered words wrapped about her, comforting for their familiarity and truth—and because they belonged to him.

Auric leapt to his feet. “That is precisely why I’ve come.” He began to pace a quick path upon the Aubusson carpet.

She eyed his restless movements. “To marry me?” she asked, her words threaded with her consternation. “You’re really not making much sense, Aur—”

“I have come with the intention of helping you find a husband.”

Daisy stilled, her gaze fixed upon his well-muscled legs clad in those midnight black breeches. He spoke as casually as if he mentioned retrieving her forgotten kerchief and not a man she’d be forever tied to. A humming filled her ears like a thousand buzzing bees circling close to her head. She curled her hands into tight fists, welcoming the sting of her nails biting into her palm. With a slow awareness that caused her heart to sink into the soles of her slippers, she faced the ugly truth—“You’d find me a husband.” Her words, a barely there whisper, brought him to an immediate stop.

Auric drove his fist into his palm and came to an abrupt halt in front of her. “Precisely, Daisy. An honorable gentleman, and,” his mouth tightened, “and whatever requirements you find essential in a husband.”

Daisy craned her neck at an awkward angle to look up at him. “He should not be a great, big dunderhead,” she snapped, because that was precisely what His Grace was being.

“Of course not,” he said brusquely. He nodded. “You’ll require an intelligent gentleman.”

“If there is such a thing,” she mumbled, because surely an intelligent duke could see the perfect woman for him sitting right there before his still too-young-for-a-quizzing glass-eyes.

“What was that?”

Daisy shoved to her feet, a mere hairsbreadth from his tall, powerful frame. Her breath caught raggedly at the heat of him pouring into her and she damned her body for reacting as it did when he should not even garner a hint of her heart’s desire. “Do you know what I want?”

Auric leaned his head down and the scent of him, sandalwood and coffee and the faintest hint of brandy, danced about her, intoxicating. “Wh…?” That question trailed off as his gaze dipped and fixed on her lips.

Did she imagine the audible inhalation of breath? She slid her tongue over her bottom lip. “I want—” He claimed her lips under his. He moved his mouth over hers demanding and seeking all at the same time.

Auric wrapped a hand about her waist and drew her close, angling his head to deepen the kiss. Even through the fabric of her gown, her skin burned with the hot heaviness of his touch and she moaned, pressing herself to him. He wrenched his head away, setting her from him with such alacrity she stumbled against the mahogany table. The duke backed away, his face wreathed in a mask of horror. “I…I…”

“I wanted you to,” she said on a breathless rush, because she could not bear the shock and disgust to follow that stammered response.

Usually unflappable, the stoic duke dragged a trembling hand through his hair. “You need a husband.” He would speak as though with a joining of their lips he’d not shaken her world and breathed a hope of them as a couple into her. “What do you desire,” a dull flush climbed up his neck and splashed his cheeks, “in a husband?” he squeezed out, his words sounding pained.

You. I desire you. Daisy smoothed her palms over the front of her skirts. “He must be devoted to me. He must care for my well-being and happiness.” And see me as more than a mere obligation.

“Devoted. Caring.” Auric gave a brusque nod and with that handful of wishes from her, took his leave.





Chapter 9

Dear Lionel,

God forgive me. I kissed your sister…

With a groan, Auric tossed his pen aside and stared at the damning pages of his journal, feeling no better for putting the truth down onto the empty sheet. He’d kissed Daisy Laurel Meadows. Nor had that kiss been a polite, meaningless gesture upon her gloved fingers or even a gentle meeting of mere lips. Rather, theirs had been an explosive, passionate exploration of two people learning one another, hungering for more.

She’d tasted of springtime and life and innocence and he’d wanted to drown himself in the sweetness of her. The nine words inked in black, glared back at him in silent recrimination. “I know it was unpardonable,” he acknowledged.

Since he’d taken his hasty leave of Daisy, he’d been unable to purge the memory of her lips or the curve of her hip from his thoughts. With a groan, Auric dropped his head onto those damning words. He knocked his forehead against the opened journal, hopelessly wrinkling the page.