Page 50 of Married to the Icy Duke (Duke Wars #3)

C harlotte’s heart hammered as she scurried down the hallway. She found herself wishing she’d asked which bedroom Isaac meant—the one he’d taken her to before, or the one where she had barged in and caught him washing.

She assumed it was the latter and so made her way towards that room. Her heart was in her mouth when she tapped on the door and waited in suspense for a response.

“I’d tell you to come in,” came Isaac’s amused drawl from inside, “but you’ll come in regardless of what I say, if my memory serves me right.”

Cheeks burning, Charlotte opened the door and stepped inside.

Isaac was leaning up against the footboard of his bed, arms folded tight across his chest. He’d stripped out of his jacket and cravat, the items tossed carelessly across the room.

She could see a crumpled strip of linen hanging over the back of a chair, the only thing out of place in the otherwise immaculate room.

She remembered what Mrs. Ribb had said about Isaac rarely allowing the servants in his room to clean or tidy and realized with a jolt that he must keep it tidy himself.

“Why did you invite me here?” she managed, after a long silence.

Isaac sighed. “Because you are being difficult.”

She gave a short, incredulous laugh. “I? I am being difficult? You must think about that again.”

He raked his hands through his hair, clearly searching for the words.

Where had he been prior to this? His club, Charlotte thought.

He spent a lot of time at his club these days.

He would have spent time with Tristan there.

Could Tristan have talked some sense into him?

Charlotte did not know the man well, but he seemed to truly care about his friend. That was something, wasn’t it?

“Perhaps I have been … off with you, lately,” he conceded at last. “I thought we were in agreement about this, Charlotte. About what we both wanted, that is.”

Charlotte clenched her jaw and took a step forward. “And I thought that I was clear, Isaac. I want a husband. A proper one. I would not insist on this if I didn’t believe that you do have feelings for me. At the very least, I know you desire me! Why can we not … why can we not try?”

He held out his hands to either side. “I have told you already.”

“Ah yes, your admirable reasons,” she began to count them off on her fingers. “You wish to remain in control and believe that giving in to any sentimentality would be a loss of control. Weakness, perhaps. You believe that you do not deserve happiness or a family. Have I missed anything?”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Isaac growled. “You deliberately misunderstand me.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Oh? Do I? You want so badly to be left alone, your Grace , then I shall give it to you. We have nothing more to discuss.”

She turned, fully intending to leave, but was surprised by him lurching forward, hands wrapping around her wrists. His grip was not tight, but she would not slide out of it easily.

“We don’t have to part like this, Charlotte,” he whispered, eyes fixed on her. His voice cracked, which surprised her more than she had expected. She swallowed thickly. When had a lump risen into her throat?

“Oh, but we must,” she whispered. “Because you wish to remain in control.”

He closed his eyes momentarily. “I cannot control myself when it comes to you,” Isaac whispered, voice softer than she’d thought possible. “Without you, I… I fear that I am going mad.”

His fingertips burned the inside of her wrists. Charlotte’s mouth was dry, and no amount of swallowing could work moisture into it. Placing her hand over his, where it closed around her wrist, she took a step forward.

“Then you must make up your mind, husband,” she stated. “I cannot keep up with your changing moods. It is not fair to make me. You must decide whether you want me in your life or not. Decide once and for all. Please, Isaac.”

There was a long, taut silence before he spoke again. He held her gaze for every second of the silence, never even seeming to blink. Then he exhaled slowly, his shoulders deflating as he did so.

“Tristan said that I was afraid,” Isaac muttered, so quietly that she almost didn’t hear it. “He notices too much for his own good, I think.”

There was a protracted silence between them. Charlotte found herself holding her breath. She had decided, long before she came here, that she would not humiliate herself by pleading with him or reasoning with him. He would make his decision, and that would be that.

Glancing across the room, he met her eye squarely. A shiver rushed through Charlotte, tensing along her spine. Her breath seemed to have gotten stuck in her lungs, and she found herself swallowing reflexively.

Hauling himself upright, Isaac moved slowly across the room towards her, his gaze fixed on Charlotte’s face. She felt heat begin to creep across her skin.

“I have tried so hard to keep my tranquility,” he murmured, voice catching. “I have tried to put you out of my mind, Charlotte. It won’t do. It doesn’t work. So, I suppose I must accept defeat at some point, mustn’t I?”

He was close enough to touch, so Charlotte gingerly extended her hands, fingertips brushing the smooth, warm material of his shirt. She slid her palms upwards, curling around his broad shoulders.

“It isn’t a defeat,” she whispered. “A man like you is never defeated , Isaac. Not unless you allow it.”

He gave a wry, tentative smile. “Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps I should have listened to you all along, my dear.”

Charlotte had to smile at that. Before she could think up a witty response, Isaac pulled her close to him, tight enough to knock the breath out of her body.

He kissed her, the kiss warm and deep, and her insides tightened as if they were melting.

She wanted to laugh, to dance, to move , but at the same time, she was convinced that if she let go of Isaac, even for an instant, she might actually die.

Before she had the chance to relax into the kiss, she found herself swept off her feet into a pair of strong arms and carried easily across the room.

Then she was flying , of all things, landing with a breathless thump in the middle of the neatly made bed. Gasping aloud, Charlotte pushed herself up on her elbows.

Isaac followed her at once, kneeling over her, and bent down to kiss her again. It was a sweeter kiss, one that made her tingle from her scalp to her toes.

She let herself fall back into the blankets, closing her eyes and reveling in the warmth of Isaac’s body against hers. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him close.

The kissing, sadly, did not seem to last long. Isaac pulled back, grinning down at her, and unceremoniously lifted her skirts, the material tangling around her waist. His fingers slid up her thighs, brushing against the join of her legs.

Charlotte’s breath hitched in her throat, and she automatically let her legs fall apart. Isaac threw her a quick, mischievous glance, one that made her shiver. She noticed that he was redder in the face than before, and a distinct bulge pressed against the front of his trousers.

Charlotte had no chance to get a proper look at it, because at that moment, Isaac leaned forward once more, pressing a hasty kiss to her lips, and then slid back down her body. Leaning back, Charlotte rested her head against the blankets and closed her eyes.

He kissed his way up one of her thighs, the scratch of his stubble a thrilling counterpoint to his soft lips.

When he reached the juncture of her legs, she let out a short gasp and felt him chuckle against her soft skin.

He continued his ministrations and slid one finger against her again, pressing gently, and then carefully slid it inside.

That was a strange sensation, one that increased her pleasure in an intense way.

Gathering her strength, Charlotte pushed herself up on her elbows and gently touched the top of Isaac’s head.

“What are you doing?” she whispered.

He reared back, sitting back on his heels. The bulge was more prominent than before, and Charlotte found herself longing to reach out and touch it, just to see what it felt like.

“I believe you know quite well what I am doing, my dear,” Isaac responded, his voice a little hoarse already. “And I also believe you rather liked it last time.”

Charlotte flushed. “I know that, I only meant … I want more, Isaac.”

He tilted his head. “More?”

She nodded, swallowing. “I know it’s hardly ladylike to ask, but I want you, Isaac. You .”

His breath hitched audibly in his throat. “I fear that we are far beyond ladylike and gentlemanly behavior, my dear.”

He crawled forward, and Charlotte allowed herself to fall back with a thump . Hands on either side of her shoulders, Isaac suspended himself above her, his expression hungry and intent.

“I have tried so hard to remove you from my head and my heart,” he whispered, voice catching. “But you will not go. And now, I believe that removing you—not that I could ever do it—would kill me. Is that not strange?”

She lifted her hand shakily, touching the curve of his jaw.

“I think that perhaps it is the most natural thing in the world, and the only people who did not know this was us.”

He gave a short laugh at this and bent down to kiss her.

“I promise you,” he whispered, his breath warm against her cheek, “that you won’t have to obey me, my duchess. Unless, of course, you want to.”

Before she could respond, he leaned down once more, pressing a searing kiss against her lips. Pulling back, Isaac sat on his heels and lowered his hands to the placket of his breeches. He paused, glancing up at her.

“If you wish to stop, you must say so.”

She nodded, swallowing hard. He undid the buttons with what seemed to be maddening slowness. His member slipped free, and Charlotte’s eyes widened.

“Will it fit?” she whispered.

He crawled forward again, kissing her on the cheek this time.

“I am confident it will."