Page 49 of A Duke to Undo her (The Husband Hunt #1)

Chapter Three

Iris’ heart leapt through her throat every time she heard footsteps walking down the hallway.

Each time they did so, they would continue past her closed door, and she would breathe a sigh of relief.

But whenever she did, she would remind herself that before this night was through one such set would stop at her door, push it open, and step inside to claim her.

Should I lock the door? Should I pretend that I am asleep? And would the duke so much as care if that were the case…

The thought terrified her as much as it elicited excitement.

She wanted to hate the idea. She thought that she should.

But each time that she found herself thinking of such things her mind would then go back to the carriage, the argument she’d had with her husband, and how she had really felt in those few moments when he had forced himself on her and shown her just how little power she had.

A shiver ran through her spine, and she gave her head a shake, determined not to think about such things. Just as she was determined to ignore the way her heart quickened its beating and her body flushed with desires never before felt.

“We will stay here tonight,” the duke had told her when he’d led her to her room. “And we will leave first thing tomorrow.”

“Oh…” She had hesitated, her eyes falling on the bed in the room’s corner. “You and…” She swallowed. “You and I?”

“My room is down the hall,” he said simply. “If you need anything, send for me.” And then he’d left her, no indication that he meant to see her against before the sun rose.

It was two hours ago now when they had arrived at the small roadside inn. Just before dusk, the duke had asked for two rooms and dinner, also ensuring that there was a place for them to wash. Iris had cleaned herself first, arriving back to her room to find a plate of food ready for her.

I should be relieved that the duke has no intention of dining with me. That he has no intentions with me whatsoever. Is that not what I wanted?

She ate alone, the whole time keeping her eye on the door and her ears listening for the sound of his arrival.

Iris might have been innocent in the ways of the world, but she was not so much that she didn’t understand the true meaning of tonight.

This was her first night as a married woman and for that reason it was expected that she would lay with her husband.

She did not know what this would entail.

She did not know the ins and outs of it, beyond what her sisters had told her.

All she knew was that it was intimate, that it was her husband’s right, and if her sisters were to be believed, that she would enjoy it immensely.

“But what about love?” she had once asked her sister, Aurelia. “Does one not have to be in love to enjoy… that?”

Aurelia had laughed. “Sweet, Iris. Love has nothing to do with it.”

“But… but… but…”

“Trust me,” Aurelia had told her as she stroked her hair. “Love or no, if the man knows what he is doing, you’ll likely forget your own name, let alone if you love him or not.”

Again, Iris had little understanding of what this meant. Just as she was not sure if she should believe Aurelia. All she could go on was how she felt about the duke and this marriage, and as she was adamantly opposed to both, she had to assume she did not want anything to do with him. Even that…

It was just as Iris was finishing dinner that she heard a knock at her door.

She caught her breath and froze as if the duke might lose interest. As she did, she caught her reflection in the mirror, only just now remembering that she was dressed in a light shift for bed. It was translucent, flowing over her curves, showing them off too in a way that made her feel exposed.

Another knock. “Iris?” the duke’s voice spoke.

“Y—yes?” she stammered, looking about for something to cover herself with. There was nothing, so she hastily crossed her arms over her chest as the duke stepped inside.

He saw her standing in the middle of the room. His dark eyes roamed her body, and she could have sworn she saw delight flash behind them. A nervous step back, not wanting to look weak and pitiful but unable to appear confident all the same.

“There is something we must speak of.” He closed the door behind them and Iris flinched to hear the lock click.

“Th—there is?” she stammered.

“Yes,” he said simply. “There is.”

He too was dressed for bed. Wearing only a loose-fitting nightshirt, it hung down to his knees.

But his legs were bare. The top of his chest was exposed.

And Iris’ eyes widened when she spied the smattering of dark hair that covered it, her pulse racing and her body flushing so she started to shake.

Her arms wrapped her body tighter in a vain effort to suppress her shaking.

“I have been thinking about earlier,” he began as he stepped deeper into the room. “What we spoke about. Or rather, how we spoke.”

“Oh…” It was all she could do not to take another step back.

“Tempers flared,” he explained simply. He was so big that when he walked toward her the room seemed to shrink around him. “And I should not have snapped at you.”

She blinked. “I did not think you would care either way.”

He chuckled. “We are married, you and I, and it will not work if we are at one another’s throats the entire time. You will be living with me, in my home. One which will be yours from now on. Just as it should feel that way.”

The duke came within five feet of her. Her eyes grew wide, and she could not stop looking at the hair across the nape of his chest. Just as she could not keep her eyes from flicking to his bare legs…

“Is something the matter?” he asked her.

“Oh!” She forced herself to meet his eyes, which was not a good idea as no doubt he could see in them exactly what was wrong. “I… no—no,” she stammered. “Not at all.” She could feel her cheeks turn bright red.

The duke frowned at her response, but it was not with confusion, because she was certain he knew only too well what had caused it.

“On that note, I think it is important that we discuss expectations,” he stated.

She swallowed. “Expectations?”

“Tonight.” He took a step closer, and her breath caught. “It is our wedding night. And I am sure that you are aware of what that means…” He raised a knowing eyebrow at her.

Iris could hardly take it. A part of her wanted to fall back, to cover herself, to tell the duke in no uncertain terms that whatever it was he had in mind, she was not interested! And the other part…

“I… I don’t… I don’t know what you mean,” she stuttered through the lie.

“Yes, you do,” he said as his eyes flicked over her. They paused on where her arms covered her breasts and his smirk grew. “You know exactly what I mean.”

“Your Grace…”

“Philip,” he corrected her.

“What?”

“Call me Philip, as I will call you Iris. We are man and wife now. It is expected.”

She swallowed again. “Philip.”

Nothing was said for a moment, and Philip took advantage of the fact.

His eyes continued to look her over and behind them she could see clearly what was on his mind.

Iris told herself truthfully that she did not want it.

That the idea made her wretch. But deep down, she felt a tingling in her thighs, they shuddered with desires untold, and she knew in that moment that for all her harsh words toward the duke that she wasn’t nearly as opposed to him as she had led herself to believe.

At least not in the manner of the physical…

“Good.” He met her eyes then, and the smirk faded from his lips. “You have nothing to fear, Iris. Not from me.”

“I… I don’t understand—”

“Tonight is our wedding night, yes, but I am not here to force myself upon you. I would never do such a thing.”

Iris felt a crash in her chest which she could not tell if it was relief or despair. “I did not think you would…”

“Good,” he said simply. “In fact, I think we should take this time to speak of… well, as I said. Expectations. Those concerning our marriage.”

With the duke’s confession sitting between them, Iris felt herself calm a little. Now that she knew he wasn’t going to force himself on her, she allowed herself to breathe. Not that she wasn’t still wary. And she kept her arms folded over her chest always.

“That word, expectations. You still have not said what it means.”

“Think of them as rules,” he explained. “Those that will be followed if this marriage is to work. I do not want us to be at one another day in and day out, so I have devised a set of said rules that you are to follow to ensure that I…” Again, a smirk tugging at the side of his lips. “That I remain amicable.”

She gave her head a shake. “I don’t understand.”

“Rule one.” He held up a finger. “When it comes to my family, you are to keep them out of your mind as well as your mouth. My past, my family history, that is a topic you are not to cover – the same goes for my brother. Regardless of what you think of him, you are to keep it to yourself. Is that clear?”

Iris was confused. What is this really about?

Nonetheless, she nodded with understanding as now she was desperate to see the duke from her room so she could assess what was going on. And, most importantly, why her body was acting the way it was.

“Rule two.” He held up a second finger. “Once we return home, you are not to disturb me unless there is a good reason for it. I do not expect us to spend much time together, so if I wish to speak with you I will send for you. Just as if you wish to speak to me, you will consider if it is something I deem important.”

“How… how will I know that?”

“I am sure you can figure out what I might deem as worthy of being disturbed for. As a rule of thumb, if you are not sure, err toward caution.”

She snorted. “And I suppose it is not too much to ask that I apply the same rules to you.”

He looked at her flatly. “And rule three,” he said as a third finger rose in the air. “You will provide me an heir.”

That had Iris balking. She blinked, opened her mouth to object, closed it, frowned as she waited for the follow-up. As if the duke might be joking.

He simply looked at her, no emotion whatsoever on his face.

“But you said…” A shake of the head. “How can you say such a thing? When you specifically stated that you would not force yourself on me?”

“Who said anything about forcing myself on you.”

She snorted again. “I might be innocent in many things but even I know what is required to produce an heir. And if you think such a thing is possible without forcing yourself on me...” She raised a challenging eyebrow.

“Are you sure about that?”

“What? Yes!”

Philip looked at her, his expression unreadable, the sense that he was seeing through her words and reading the lie that she was forcing on herself. As if he knew how she was feeling… and how her body was reacting to his mere presence.

It made her uncomfortable. She squirmed slightly and hugged herself tighter. Then she looked away, feeling his eyes still on her…

“I am not going to—”

“You are my wife,” he cut over her and took a quick step into her. She gasped and her first instinct was to step back but his hand latched out and wrapped her waist. “And as the wife of a duke, certain things are expected.”

“I… that is not… I do not care…” She could hardly speak with him so close, his hand on her waist. Feeling it there. His body too, standing over her so she had nowhere to go. Again, that sense of helplessness took her. And again, it didn’t feel nearly as bad as it should have.

“You object now.” His voice dropped so that he was purring.

“Which is why I have given you warning.” Then, his other hand reached up and rested under her chin, stroking it gently as he continued to look into her eyes.

And as he did, the grip on her waist tightened.

“But you will provide an heir for me, Iris. This is not negotiable.”

“And if I refuse…” Her entire body was shaking and where she wanted to look away, his eyes were too enchanting, the pull of them so powerful, that she could not.

“You would be unwise to.” His fingers closed around her chin, and he leaned in.

Her eyes widened and her heart leapt through her chest because she was certain she knew what he was about to do.

And despite her objections, despite her best efforts, Iris found her lips puckering because in that moment she wanted nothing more than to feel the duke’s lips on her own.

“One month…” He moved past her lips to her ear.

“That is how long you will have to ready yourself.”

“Wh—what?” she breathed, her entire body shuddering to feel the kiss of his breath on her ear.

“In one month, you and I will consummate this marriage. So, I suggest you spend that month making your peace with it. Am I understood?”

She said nothing. She could not speak!

“Answer me,” he growled.

“Y—yes,” she yelped. “I… understand.”

“Good girl.” Still holding her, he kept his lips by her ear. His grip tightened. His fingers on her chin stroked gently. Iris was not in her mind; her body took over and it ran so hot she thought she might explode.

And then, as quickly as it had started, the duke ended it.

He released her and took a quick step back. His expression was once again impassive and although she had no doubt that he could see clearly what he had done to her, he gave no indication of the fact.

“We leave in the morning,” he said simply. “I suggest you get your rest, wife.” With that, he turned and strode from the room, not so much as looking back once.

Iris stood frozen in the room’s center.

Her body was still shaking. She was so hot that she thought her shift might catch fire. Struggling to breathe, skin tingling all over, it was all she could do to not collapse on the floor.

I don’t… I can’t… What was…

She had no idea how to explain what had just happened. The why of it. The how. This was not her world and never before had she felt so innocent and unprepared.

Despite her objections to the duke, regardless of what she told herself, she knew then that things were infinitely more complex than she had initially thought. And more dangerous because of it.