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“Yes,” she said. “Yes, that would work very well, I think.”

Three weeks was not a very long time. One of the paintings was a very simple one, and would only take a day or two to complete, but some of the others were more complex. She would have to work hard, with no time at all to slack off.

Cassian arched an eyebrow, taking a step towards her. “And you’re sure this is what you want? A full three weeks without your dear husband in your bed?”

Emily flushed red. She could feel heat creeping across her face and down her neck. “Well, that hardly matters!”

He grinned—a wolfish smile that made her shiver. “I think it does.”

Emily knew exactly what the wretched man was thinking of. He was thinking of her, eyes fluttering, back arching, gasping in pleasure, fingers twined in his hair and wrapped around his wrist.

And now, of course,shewas thinking it too.

It did very little to cool the heat in her face. To her chagrin, she felt the familiar spark of desire in her gut.

“I am grateful for your patience,” she managed, tilting her head up to look him in the eye.

He arched that eyebrow higher, cocking his head side like a curious bird.

No, not a bird. A fox, one with a mischievous glint in its eyes.

“You surely don’t think that a man like me would compel a woman to lie with him?”

Emily cleared her throat. “No, I do not.”

“You’d be right. Besides, I’ve never been in a situation where such a thing came up.”

He took another step closer. Emily felt as though she should step away and return to the wedding party—her wedding party! How could she have forgotten?—but she was mesmerized, staring up into Cassian’s clear, unblinking eyes.

He lifted his hand, his fingertips grazing the curve of her cheek. Her breath caught in her throat.

“You look beautiful,” he said. Not in a whisper or a hushed tone, like a man whispering to his lover. No, he said it bluntly, in an even voice, almost as if it were a inconsequential thing. “I shouldn’t like you to go all day without knowing it. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, Emily.”

Her mouth went dry. His gaze dropped to her lips, the pad of his thumb skimming across her lower lip.

He’s going to kiss me.

Desire churned inside her, making her hands shake and her belly tighten.

“You can always…” She paused, forced to wet her lips to bring some moisture into her mouth. His steely gaze followed the movement of her tongue, his eyes darkening. “You can always visit me, I suppose.”

There was a heartbeat of silence between them, then a smile spread across Cassian’s face, wider than before.

“Oh no, duchess. You see, if I were to visit you now, I’m not sure I would be able to control myself.” He leaned forward, the tip of his nose almost touching hers. His hand skimmed lower, spanning the front of her throat with a tantalizing, feather-light touch. “When you invite me to your room, my dear duchess, you had better be ready tobegme to claim you.”

Emily’s eyes widened. Any clever retorts she might have had lodged themselves in her throat.

Cassian straightened up, his hand dropping to his side. He smiled down at her, seeming extremely satisfied.

“Three weeks, then,” he said, almost to himself. “I certainly hope you enjoy your painting, my dear Emily.”

“I… I shall,” she stammered.

She was still hot and sweaty beneath her tight bodice, almostitchingfor his touch. It wasn’t coming, she knew that much, but that did nothing to ease the ache in the pit of her belly and between her thighs.

He swept past her, his head held high, and ducked out of the low doorway, leaving her alone with her acute desire and bewilderment.

I do not think that I got the better end of that altercation.