To Desire a Wicked Duke (12 page)

It would require a Herculean effort, though, to sleep in the same bedchamber with Tess and restrain his desire for her. But for both their sakes, Ian pledged, he meant to try. For now he would keep his hands off her if it killed him.

When at last he escorted her up to the ducal apartments and closed his bedchamber door behind them, he saw Tess’s nerves visibly return. The suite was quite large, but Ian suspected it felt too small to her, having to be alone with him.

He noted how her gaze swept the room. The furnishings were done in burgundy and golds, with a massive four-poster canopied bed dominating one side. The covers were drawn down and someone—presumably her maid—had laid out her nightdress and dressing gown on the bed.

Despite the welcome fire in the hearth that took away any chill, Tess shivered, evidently still unsettled at the necessity of having to sleep with him.

“Do you need my help undressing?” he asked, keeping his tone placid.

“I can manage.”

“The dressing room is beyond that door.” He gestured toward the far side of the bedchamber.

Tess hesitated. “It occurs to me that we needn’t share a bed at all, even to keep up appearances.”

“Where do you propose sleeping then?” When she had no answer, he relented. “There is a chaise longue in the sitting room next door, where you may sleep if you wish. I advise you to take some blankets to ward off the cold. Although it seems foolish when there is a comfortable bed right here.”

He waited for her reply to no avail. “I could volunteer to be noble, but I have no desire to endure such discomfort myself. My bed is large enough that we can each sleep on our own side.”

When Tess still remained silent, Ian let out a breath in exasperation. “Your nerves are understandable, love, but I assure you, I won’t ravish you in your sleep. I am that much of a gentleman.”

“I believe you are,” Tess said grudgingly. “It is just I have never slept with anyone before.”

“That can be lonely.”

She gave him a quelling look. “I doubt I will sleep a wink tonight,” she muttered under her breath.

“I may not either,” Ian murmured with complete sincerity.

After a long delay, Tess emerged from the dressing room uncertain how to act. Fanny had advised her to let Rotham take the lead on their wedding night, but what the devil should she do now that he didn’t mean
to consummate their union? She never would have envisioned such consideration from him, and yet she was grateful that he didn’t mean to force her to honor their vows just then.

When Tess caught sight of Rotham, though, she came up short. Only partly dressed, he lounged in a wing chair, drinking from what looked to be a brandy snifter. Although he still wore his satin knee breeches and stockings, he’d shed his coat and cravat and shirt and had removed his shoes.

Her nerves ran riot at the sight of his bare torso. She wished he would don a dressing robe. It would be far easier to pretend indifference to him if he were not half naked—

Abruptly, Tess scolded herself. Much of the female population of England wanted the sinfully handsome Devil Duke. Perversely, she was determined she would not.

Even so, it was easier to mentally voice such a principle than to stand by it. Simply being alone in the same bedchamber with Rotham made her dizzy and incoherent. It didn’t help that he was surveying her as if he could see through her concealing dressing gown. In turn, she tried not to look at his bare, smoothly muscular chest and instead forced her gaze back to his face. His features were leaner and harder than Richard’s—

Irritated at herself for making such comparisons, Tess shut off her thoughts and strolled across the bedchamber to hold her chilled hands out to the fire. Yet her eyes were drawn irresistibly back to Rotham. She felt a stomach-tightening awareness of him as a man. His broad shoulders, the long, elegant muscles of his
body, the lithe strength that seemed to radiate from him almost as an extension of his powerful personality, all captured her attention with bewitching ease.

He was entirely too compelling for her peace of mind, devil take him. And he knew very well he was affecting her. He looked at her in that perceptive way of his, as if realizing her disinterest was sheer bravado.

Heaven help her if he realized how fast her heart was beating, Tess reflected. It was bad enough that he thought her a nervous rabbit.

She winced, remembering how her vow to keep out of his bed had amused him. At least he was right about one thing. Since his bed was massive, it would be easier for them to stay on their respective sides.

His low voice broke her chaotic ruminations. “Come here, Tess.”

“Why?” she asked rather suspiciously.

He held up the brandy snifter in his hand, which was three quarters full with amber liquor.

Eyeing the glass, she pasted a half smile on her lips. “First sherry, then wine with dinner, and now brandy. Are you trying to make me foxed?”

“I am trying to settle your nerves.”

Agreeing with his goal, Tess moved toward him, her slippers making little sound on the Aubusson carpet.

“Now drink,” he ordered.

She took the glass he offered her and dutifully sipped the brandy, welcoming the burn. Perhaps the potent liquor would indeed help to soothe her rattled nerves, or at a minimum, help her to sleep.

“I don’t normally retire so early,” she admitted,
making the observation to alleviate the awkward silence.

“Oh? What do you do in the evenings?”

“After dinner I usually spend time with Mrs. Croft, assuming I can lure her from her studio. If not, I keep myself occupied writing letters or with needlework. And I frequently read before bedtime.”

She also often wrote in her diary, but she was not about to tell Rotham that, especially when he had recently become the prime subject of her private musings. She’d written four pages about him just since yesterday, after her life had suddenly turned upside down.

“Did you bring any reading material with you?” Rotham asked.

“Yes, but it is in my own bedchamber.”

“It won’t do for you to go traipsing down the corridor to fetch it.”

“I suppose not,” Tess conceded.

“We can always sit here and converse.”

She didn’t think that a wise idea, not when she was so conscious of his bare chest. She drank another long swallow of brandy and tried not to wince at the searing sting in her throat.

“Do you mean to leave your hair pinned up like that?” Rotham asked.

“I hadn’t thought about it.”

“You should take it down.”

“Perhaps so,” Tess agreed. When he politely retrieved the brandy glass from her and set it down, she reached up and pulled the pins from her coiffure, sending waves of glossy dark hair tumbling over her shoulders.

Rotham’s gaze arrested as he studied her. “I have never seen your hair down before,” he remarked, sounding as if the sight appealed to him.

He slowly rose to his feet then. Tess froze in place when he reached out to finger a long tress.

His hand shifted to her cheek next and stroked lightly. Tess shivered. It unsettled her intensely to be touched by this man.

It unsettled her more to think Rotham might kiss her, but she suspected that was precisely his design when he gently lured her chin upward with his thumb.

His gray eyes held her spellbound for a long moment. She could hear her own heart hammering as her gaze wandered to his mouth. Before yesterday she’d thought his lips would be hard like the rest of him, but now she knew better.

When he bent his head to let that hot velvet mouth graze hers, Tess sighed and leaned toward him involuntarily … yet somehow she found the willpower to turn her head to one side and press her palms against his bare chest.

“You said you would treat our union as a contract,” she exclaimed breathlessly. “Kissing is no part of any contract.”

“No, but it is the best way to vanquish your fear of me.”

“I do not fear you, Rotham.”

He emitted a soft sound of amusement.

“I do not,” Tess insisted. “I am suffering the normal sensibilities every young lady has on her wedding night.”

“I told you, I won’t do anything you don’t wish me to do.”

“You are kissing me now when I don’t wish it.”

“Are you certain?”

Of course she wasn’t certain. She only knew that she didn’t want a disastrous repeat of yesterday, when she’d completely lost her senses.

Yet it was happening again now, just being in such close proximity to Rotham. How could she possibly think when his fingertips were drawing tingling patterns on her throat? When the warm swirl of his breath was caressing her lips and stealing
her
breath?

Tess felt a vivid shock of awareness when Rotham covered her mouth with his again, and yet unlike yesterday, his kiss was soft and sensual this time. She hadn’t expected such tenderness from him, but that was exactly what he gave her. He rubbed his lips over hers, measuring their softness, inducing a fresh shiver of delight to slide down her spine and gather low in her belly.

Reality seemed to fade. In its place stole an intimate, overwhelming sensation. Tess felt dazed, as if she were slowly falling headlong into a vortex. She shut her eyes and swayed so weakly that Rotham had to steady her with one hand at her waist. Meanwhile, his mouth was tender fire, sending heat washing over her skin and throughout her body.

She was unaware of the passage of time, but when Rotham finally raised his head, she stood there clutching his bare shoulders.

“What more can I do to set your mind at ease?” he asked in that low, husky, tender-rough voice that stroked her senses.

Dragging her eyes open, Tess blinked up at him. His expression was gentle, his eyes as warm as she had ever seen them. She could not have spoken, though, if her life had depended on it.

When she didn’t reply, he smiled again. “We should go to bed, love.”

His suggestion was like a dousing of cold water and made Tess go rigid. Jerking her clinging hands away from his half-naked form, she took an abrupt step backward.

At her reaction, Rotham cocked his head at her. “I would never have pegged you for the craven sort.”

Tess swallowed and tried to regain her composure. She was
not
craven. And she refused to let her nerves get the better of her, especially in front of this man. “You are right, this is absurd.”

Turning, she moved around the end posts to the far side of the bed. She kept her back to Rotham as she shrugged out of her robe, giving him only a glimpse of her concealing nightdress. Then she climbed into the high bed and pulled the covers up to her chin.

The silence that followed was broken only by the quiet crackle of the fire and the whisper of clothing as Rotham undressed. Tess kept her gaze averted until she heard him moving around the room.

Wondering what he was up to, she peered over her shoulder and saw that he was putting out the lamps. Her initial glimpse of him, however, startled her. He was not wearing a dressing gown or even a nightshirt.

To her regret, she couldn’t look away. Rotham had always been fascinating and forbidden to her, and in the glow of firelight that still illuminated the bedchamber, he seemed even more so. He was virile and
vital enough to make her breath catch, his nude body lean and sleek with muscle.

But of course he would be well-honed. He was a sportsman and a member of the Corinthian set, his muscles hardened by riding and fencing and amateur fisticuffs at Gentleman Jackson’s salon.

“Do you mean to sleep in the nude?” she asked in a high voice as he crossed to the bed.

“It is my custom, yes.”

His weight settled on the mattress, and the rustle of covers told her that he had claimed his side of the bed.

Several minutes passed, but although Tess shut her eyes and willed slumber to come, her tension only seemed to increase. She was as far away as she could get from her naked husband, but still he was lying not an arm’s length from her.

His nonchalance irked her somehow. Tess resented that Rotham just planned to fall asleep. But then he likely hadn’t been affected by the sensual kisses he had just given her.

After another ten minutes, her nerves had grown even more taut. Tess rolled onto her other side, trying to find a comfortable position, but comfort eluded her, as did calm.

Finally she opened her eyes. Rotham lay on his side, she saw, his back to her, his breathing even but not heavy.

“Rotham, are you asleep?” she whispered.

“No.”

She raised herself on one elbow. “Perhaps you are right—it is best to have done with it.”

“Have done with what?”

“The consummation.”

There was a long silence.

“Why?” came the brief question.

“Because then I won’t be lying here all night anticipating the worst. I wish you would just get it over with.”

“I am not going to rush the consummation, sweetheart. Not until you are ready and willing, even eager.”

Tess lay back down and stared up at the canopy overhead, vaguely noting the flickering shadows made by the hearth fire’s flames. “How can you simply go to sleep?”

“It doesn’t seem I will be able to, with you flopping like a landed fish,” Rotham said dryly, rolling onto his back.

“I am sorry,” she apologized, without really meaning it. “But I cannot believe you are supposed to be a wicked rake and you are acting nothing like one.”

He laced his hands behind his head. “I cannot believe I am showing such remarkable restraint, having a beautiful woman in my bed and doing nothing but trying to sleep.”

It was some consolation that he thought her beautiful. But Tess doubted the suspense was as much of a hardship for him.

Why was he refusing to claim her virginity? she wondered. She had thought he was delaying out of consideration for her sensibilities. But he might be stalling simply to torment her. Or perhaps he wanted to make her plead with him to take her.

Well, she would not give him the satisfaction. Except that she would obviously suffer more than he would if she held stubbornly to her vow.…

Tess was deliberating what to say when Rotham spoke again. “I should think you would be curious to know what you are missing.”