Page 13 of A Duke Of Her Own

“I will be leaving tomorrow,” she said softly.I might never come back. However, she could not bring herself to say so.

“To London?”

She swallowed tightly. “Yes.”

“I have business there in the upcoming weeks.”

Her heart lurched. “Please do not suggest that we might see each other there!”

Alexander stared at her intently before he drew her into his arms. “I do not like this look of fright and sadness that enters your eyes, Francie.”

Oh!

“I do not like to feel it in my heart either,” she said, wrapping her arms around his nape.

“Will you tell me what it is that hurts you so?”

She stiffened and tried to move away, but he held her hips, anchoring her in place. Her heart tumbled over painfully inside his chest. “Perhaps one day,” she said.

Alexander cupped her face and brushed his mouth against hers. He did not use words to tell her she could trust him even with her darkest secrets, only kisses and gentle touches. She melted against him, flowing with his direction to wrap her legs around his waist. One of his hands brushed lightly over the curve of her hips, then delved underneath the water and the space between her thighs, finding a spot so sensitive that she gasped. He notched his cock at her already slick entrance.

“Hold me tight, and do not let me go, Francie,” he whispered roughly against her well-kissed and swollen lips.

Why did she feel as if he spoke beyond this moment? She tightened her arms around his nape and held on when he gripped her hips and dragged her down even as his hips surged upward. His hard and deep possession made her sex ache, but it also felt glorious. They moved passionately, the water lapping around their bodies. Each desperate stroke pushed Francie closer and closer to bliss. She sank her teeth into the muscle of his shoulder as exquisite sensations sliced through her body, and the tight coil in her belly broke as waves of pleasure shook her. He groaned, thrusting his fingers through her wet hair to slant his mouth over hers with lustful greed. Alexander kissed her deeply, his other hand wrapped tightly around her back as he poured his release deep inside her body.

Their coupling was fast and wild, very different from the leisurely way he had taken her to pleasure in the cottage. He broke their kiss and stared at her. “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” she said softly, her cheeks heating.

He eased from her body, and she leaned against his chest. Francie laughed when he dropped back into the water, floating with her laying atop him. They stayed like that for a long time before a yawn caught her by surprise.

“Let’s go back inside. I will cook for you,” he murmured.

“Another stew?”

“I will roast a quail.”

Finally, they swam back to the banking, and he helped her from the water. Alexander clasped their fingers together and tugged her toward the cottage.

“I … I must go home,” she said.

He peered down at her. “Stay with me for another night. Or I can stay with you at your cottage.”

She was suddenly filled with a desperate longing that threatened to overwhelm her good sense. “I have a cook and a maid.”

“Ah, the dreaded fear of servants’ gossip. Even so buried in the countryside, they have such powers.”

Francie bit into her lower lip. “Yes.”

“Stay with me.”

“It was meant to be one night,” she whispered.

“Is that enough for you?”

Her heart jerked, and something hot and turbulent went through her body. “No.”

A slow, lazy smile swept across his face. “It is not enough for me either, Francie.”