All I Want for Christmas Is a Duke (14 page)

Chapter Six

On the Sixth Day of Christmas

My True Love Gave to Me

Many Words of Mischief

Alexander trailed Adriana out into the hallway, following her twitching skirts and angry steps. It had taken hours to find her alone. After presents, she had whisked Georgiana away for a short nap, then the two had gone for a long walk in the snow, and then there had been another nap, and he’d been absorbed being a dutiful host.

A host of guests had long been a Berresford Ducal tradition. A tradition he could have done without at present.

Finally, he’d tracked her down in one of the upper hallways. When she’d spotted him, her gaze had narrowed and, if he’d been a lesser man, his balls would have withered. He wasn’t about to let her ire continue. “Adriana,” he called, keeping his voice low.

She stopped, turned on her heel, and pointed at him. “Making a fool of me was not part of our deal. You fed me to the wolves down there.”

Alexander waited, letting her vent her fury.

Her pale cheeks blazed red. “I understand you think little of me, but to hand me over to those vicious harpies for their own amusement tells me a great deal about you. After your present, my heart felt so warmed, but then I realized I am nothing, just a plaything for you to make use of. I can’t—”

Unable to bear another minute of the thoughts that had apparently swarmed her head, Alexander strode to her, and in two swift steps he backed her into a small narrow hall, thankfully tucked far away from the prying eyes of his guests. He cupped his fingers around her nape, tilted her head back, and just before he slanted his lips over hers, he whispered, “I did it so you wouldn’t be able to leave my side. How else could I keep you close, Adriana?”

The rage vanished from her face, replaced by disbelief.

Before she could speak, he seized her mouth with his own, not holding back, not gentle as he was the night before. He wanted to consume her. To make her want him as madly as he wanted her. There was something about this woman that flung all reason from of his head, and he wouldn’t be the only one waving adieu to sanity.

She gasped against his mouth, her hands limp by her sides until at last, she moaned against him and embraced him in turn.

He needed no further encouragement. Alexander pressed her between the wall and his body, determined that she should feel his unyielding hardness and the ridge of his cock, hungry to thrust deep inside her body.

She panted for breath, but he wouldn’t give it to her. Instead, he stole the air from her lungs, taking her mouth savagely, thrusting his tongue into her mouth just as his cock wished to do to the folds between her thighs. Slowly, deliberately, he thrust his tongue in and out, opening her mouth wider, so that she could deny him nothing.

Her fingers clawed at his back, and she angled her head, granting him an even deeper kiss. Despite the layers of her gown and his trousers, her hips cradled his hard, pulsing erection. Though it was the height of madness, every instinct demanded he lay her on the wood floor and take her now.

As it was, he grabbed a fistful of her skirt and slid it up her thighs.

“W-What?” she gasped against his mouth.

“Shhh,” he murmured. Before she could say anything else, his fingers found her slick folds and her knees nearly buckled. He wouldn’t let her fall but held her upright as he kissed her and stroked his fingers deeper, seeking the tight spot of her desire.

She trembled against him before she wound her hands into his coat, grabbing fistfuls of the fabric.

Even as he rubbed his lips tantalizingly over hers, he stroked his thumb over the swollen nub of flesh he knew would drive her wild with passion. She arched toward him, a whimper coming from her mouth.

He could drive her over the edge. Right now. But he wouldn’t. For one very important reason. He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “I want to be in you when you come.”

She sucked in a sharp breath. “I-I…”

He stroked his thumb in a tantalizing circle over her folds one last time before he slid his hand out from between her legs and dropped her skirts back to the floor. “Tonight.”

She closed her eyes, her face flushed, her breath harried. “I am still angry with you.”

“Because I wish to be with you?”

Slowly, she opened her eyes, and there was such vulnerability he felt his heart stammer. Was this the shocking, prevaricating woman he’d believed her to be? Where was this gentle fragility originating from?

“Do you mean that, or is that just part of your seduction?”

He almost let the words does it matter? pass his lips, but he held them back because they weren’t true. He did want to spend more time with her and not because he wanted to get to the root of her so he could ensure she never hurt Georgiana or himself, but rather to know her completely because he desired her for his own pleasure. Adriana was no cold schemer. He knew it in his bones. “I shouldn’t, but I wish to have you with me because I do not wish for us to be parted. You see, I’m learning that every aspect of you is appealing.”

At that her face shuttered, the passion fading. “You tell that lie very well.”

He grasped her chin and tilted it up so that she looked him in the eyes. “Lying is not one of my traits.”

“But it is one of mine,” she countered.

“Well, you are a novelist,” he teased. Good God, but she trusted no one. Likely, she had no reason to. If her books were any proof, she’d never had someone to love her. To take care of her. Suddenly, he found himself asking quite rashly, “Are you the heroine in all your books?”

She scrabbled against the wall, trying to find a way to avoid the pointed question, no doubt. “I beg your pardon?”

“In your books, the heroine is always quite friendless, perhaps finding love, only to be betrayed, and she dies in the end. Alone.”

Her jawline set.

He’d hit a nerve, and he stared down at her in wonder. “They are you.”

“Please, I don’t wish to discuss it.”

“You’re not going to die alone, Adriana, and I’m not going to betray you.”

She snapped a furious look at him. “Last night you threatened to throw me out into the snow.”

Her words cut brutally. Was he really such an ass? “Adriana, I kept you here because I wished you to be in my bed. And I have wanted you there for some time. But if you do not also wish it, I will not force you to it.”

“But you will send me away.”

There she had him. He had no idea what to do with her. For the last year, he’d watched her, admiring her but not allowing himself to become too intrigued lest he head down a dangerous path. Now, he’d launched himself down said path at a full run.

He didn’t want to turn back. Still, he had no easy words to give her. He’d seen the way she loved Georgiana and the way his daughter loved her in turn. To separate them would be unbearable, but to keep Adriana could be just as dangerous. “I don’t know what to say.”

She raised her hand and clasped his wrist. “Don’t say anything. Not now.”

So, he didn’t. Instead, he did the only thing he could think of—he leaned forward and gently pressed a kiss to her brow, then rested his forehead against hers. He stood like that, unsure how much time had passed, only knowing that in her presence, in her embrace, he felt more alive and more the man he thought he could be than he ever had in his life.

Finally, he whispered, “What is it about you?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You make me wish to be so much more.”

She pulled back, a bemused smile turning her lips. Carefully, she brushed a lock of hair back from his brow. “You’re a duke. How much more could you be? The king?”

“I was born to be a duke,” he said factually. “I’m a duke because of the fortune of my birth. You make me wish to be a better man. One of my making, not birth.”

That smile faded and she averted her gaze. Shadows danced in those eyes, suddenly making the harsh cares of her life present. “Please don’t.”

That damned feeling was back. The one that wanted to protect her from all the pain she’d ever known or ever could know. “What?”

“Make me care about you.”

He caressed his palm over her cheek. “Would that be so terrible?”

Her fingers curled into fists and she still kept her gaze to the left, fixed on some imaginary object. “Yes.”

He circled one arm about her waist, embracing her, holding her to him as if he could somehow make them one. “But I already care for you, Adriana. So perhaps it is only fair that you should come to care for me.”

A scoffing sound escaped her lips. “You don’t play fair.”

Leaning his head down, he whispered against the curve of her throat, “Are we playing?”

“Aren’t we?” she demanded. But there was a note of doubt in her voice.

“No.” He let his lips brush over her hot, delicate skin. “Our games are long done.”

“So, what are we doing, then?”

“I have no idea, but there is no game about it. For there is far too much at risk.” He dared not say that if anything, this had become a game of hearts, what with the way she was storming into his. But he couldn’t trust her with that yet. Not when he was uncertain. Not when he still couldn’t be sure if this seduction was entirely about her keeping her place.

He prayed that in some way it was about him. That she didn’t just seek to keep her position, but that she hungered to be with him as badly as he now hungered to be with her. Over the last year, he’d had an inexplicable need for her. Could he hope she’d felt the same?

“Will you come down to dinner?” he asked gently. “For me?”

She lifted her gaze to his, her soft lips parting. “For you… Yes, Alexander.”

Chapter Seven

On the Seventh Day of Christmas

My True Love Gave to Me

Seven Challenges to Keep Him

She was still going to murder Alexander. He’d bought a reprieve upstairs, but several hours later, the torture had begun and he was going to pay for it. Somehow.

Adriana sat, tense, under the watchful eyes of vultures. And she wasn’t even in her own clothes. The borrowed gown fit her surprisingly well. Even the color, if she considered. Lady Jane, daughter of the Earl of Wentworth, had with a remarkable kindness slipped her into the wine-colored gown of brocade silk.

She’d never worn anything so magnificent or large in her life. The skirts barely fit beneath the table. Black lace dripped from the sleeves that barely touched her shoulders, leaving the vast majority of her bosom exposed to the company. She felt naked, far more naked than in those brief days she’d entertained gentlemen for her mother’s friend. At least then, she’d not been living a lie. She’d been herself.

Here in the dining room of Highburn, on Christmas Day, yards away from the duke, surrounded by those highest placed in society, she felt like the liar she in fact was.

“The table arrangements are absolutely breathtaking,” gushed a silver-haired lady across the wide table. “Have you ever seen anything so beautiful, Miss Grey?”

Adriana swallowed. “How very kind of you to notice. It was my great pleasure to help to design them.”

That garnered the silence of those sitting immediately about her. Vultures all.

“Well,” Lady Jane said quickly, her auburn curls sparkling under the hundreds of lit candles in their golden candelabras. “That is only fitting, as there is no dowager duchess or duchess. You are very talented, Miss Grey. And beautiful.”

Adriana wanted to dislike the woman who had bustled up to her tower room two hours earlier with her maid and boxes of frocks and accoutrement. But she couldn’t. Unlike the others who watched her every move, hoping she’d do something to betray her low class and provide their expected entertainment, Lady Jane seemed genuinely good-natured.

Adriana nodded in acknowledgement. “Thank you.”

It had taken the servants many hours to collect the evergreens and pinecones needed for the arrangements, and the hundreds of dark purple grape clusters had arrived from London only yesterday. Apples, oranges, and gold tissue cutouts of trees, horses, Father Christmas, and snowflakes decked the table in a decadent tribute to the wealthy and winter. Taking a note of pride in her work, she added, “Miss Georgiana and I truly enjoyed collecting sprigs of juniper for the design.”

One of the gentlemen clapped his gloved hands, his red cheeks bright as he then took a swig of wine. “But Miss Georgiana. Surely, it is difficult for her to get about.”

“Oh yes,” tutted the silver-haired lady. The older woman leaned forward, a look of secretive pleasure upon her face. “Poor creature. In her condition.”

Adriana grabbed her wineglass, gripping it tightly, lest she smack the woman currently gossiping at her charge’s expense.

Another gentleman, a Lord Rothby, young, his pale English skin sallow under the amber glow, said, “The wages of sin are often malformed.”

Adriana stared at him. Trying to make sense of his words. Rage gripped her stomach. “Did I hear you rightly, sir?”

Rothby, his russet hair slicked back with pomade, met her challenging gaze. “I don’t know, Miss Grey. What did you hear?”

“That Miss Georgiana’s infirmity is a result of her parentage.”

Rothby laughed slightly. “No.”

Adriana drew in a relieved breath. “I am glad to hear it.”

“It is a result of her lack of parentage.”

Her jaw clenched.

Rothby lifted his wineglass in salute, drank a large gulp, then placed it down. “Surely as an educator, Miss Grey, you have a moderate knowledge of science.”

Those around her fell silent except for a few murmurs that only encouraged Rothby. Most of the long table was oblivious to the suddenly provocative comments of the self-important lord.

“I do,” she gritted.

“Then you are familiar with animal husbandry.”

Several titters of shock came from the ladies around them.

“Lord Rothby,” began Lady Jane. “Perhaps this is unsuitable—”

“Miss Grey voiced interest, did she not?” Rothby shrugged elegantly. His dinner jacket, which likely would have fed a family in St. Giles for well over a year, barely wrinkled with his movement. “I am merely educating an educator.”

Why had she ever allowed Alexander to convince her to do this? He’d claimed he wished to be close to her, but he was so far away at the opposite end of the table. In fact, they’d not shared a single word since she’d come down. “Pray, go ahead,” she said tightly. Hoping Rothby would only expose himself as the ass he was.