Page 20 of The Duke Who Stole Me (Stolen by the Duke #4)

Chapter Twenty

“ G ood morning, wife.”

Juliana peeled her eyes open, catching a glimpse of the sunlight filtering in her room, before closing them again, adjusting her position.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the same deliciously deep voice spoke again.

But the words didn’t register in Juliana’s mind until she felt a certain hardness poke her backside.

Her eyes flew open instantly. She blinked as she craned her neck to look behind her at the owner of that voice, his muscular arms wrapped around her.

“Do you usually wake up so early?” she asked groggily.

Instead of replying, Vincent chuckled deeply. The sound reverberated through her naked body, bringing it to life.

“Yes. Although I must admit there might’ve been some external influence this morning,” Vincent purred.

It was then that the memories of the night before flooded into her mind, instantly turning her scarlet.

“I take it you just recalled some wanton details from last night?” Vincent asked, his voice teasing.

Juliana did not need to look directly into his eyes to know he was wiggling his eyebrows.

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re on about, husband.”

A blatant lie.

“I believe you do.” Vincent’s chuckle warmed her back, and she smiled against her pillow.

“However, if you still do not recall, I won’t mind refreshing your memory,” he said, before latching his lips onto the crook of her neck.

Juliana jerked, not anticipating the attack. Or perhaps she did, but her body was still tingling from the pleasure that held her captive, so the feel of his lips on her skin felt a little overstimulating.

“I recall now!” she cried out immediately.

Vincent stopped, his lips hovering over her neck, his hot breath tickling her.

“Are you sure?” he asked, lowering his lips to her cheek.

Juliana nodded.

“Use your words, sweet,” he murmured against her skin.

“Yes, I am sure,” she responded.

However, Vincent placed his large fingers on her face, turned her head to his, then leaned in and kissed her lips, the corners of her lips, her nose, the bridge of her nose, her eyes, her forehead, and then her lips again.

“I could kiss you all day,” he breathed, before inhaling deeply as though he couldn’t get enough of her.

Juliana lay there, the color on her face deepening. “You cannot kiss me all day. We both have work to do.”

Vincent leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. “Work be damned. I’d rather spend the entire day kissing you.”

Juliana melted at that.

Where did he learn to speak so sweetly? It made her wonder just how many women he’d been with to be so skilled.

She sat up. She shouldn’t be thinking about that, but she had no choice.

“Stay here with me,” he said, his voice soft.

When she opened her mouth to respond, a knock sounded at the door.

Juliana’s eyes widened in shock. It must be Eunice, having come to prepare her for the day. Her heart began pounding in her chest.

She didn’t want Eunice to see her like that; she wasn’t sure how she’d face her afterward. However, as though Vincent read her mind, he climbed out of bed, the covers falling down his body and revealing his stiff member.

Juliana swallowed. She didn’t have the time to admire him last night due to the…urgency between them, so now that she was looking at it, she couldn’t believe it had been inside her. How did it fit?

“If you keep looking at me like that, Juliana, you’ll have to bear the consequences. Can you handle it?”

His voice broke through her haze, and she raised her eyes to his. She’d been blatantly staring at his manhood, and he caught her. She felt warmth bloom across her face.

Vincent, however, smirked, picked up his trousers from the floor, and dragged them up his legs. Another knock sounded at the door, and Vincent went to it and pulled it open. Instinctively, Juliana lifted the bed covers to her chest, but she might as well haven’t, for Vincent used his large frame to block her from view.

“Draw a bath for my wife in my chambers,” she heard him order the maid.

She didn’t hear Eunice’s response, but she imagined that the girl bowed and ran to his room.

“Why your room?” Juliana asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Should I have let her come in here when you look so ravished?” Vincent asked with a raised eyebrow.

Juliana shook her head.

A few minutes later, Eunice returned, knocking on the door to report that she had prepared the bath. To Juliana’s surprise, Vincent dismissed her.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have dismissed my maid. She was supposed to scrub my back,” Juliana lamented with a slight pout.

“I dismissed her because you have no use for her this morning.”

Before Juliana could ask what he meant by that, he crossed to the bed, bundled her up in the covers, and lifted her into his arms.

“Vincent! What are you doing?” she shrieked.

“Nothing other than what I’d planned to do,” Vincent said with a laugh as he walked out of her chambers and into his, where he unwrapped her, then wrapped his arms around her waist and planted a delicious kiss on her lips.

Juliana’s body reacted instantly, her back arching as though reaching out to him, begging him to touch her everywhere.

His lips moved against hers with a tantalizing passion that sent a shockwave through her entire body.

“Come.” Vincent pulled away, before carrying her to the tub and lowering her into it.

Juliana’s entire body was flaming hot. She wasn’t sure what she thought about his actions, but she indulged him.

Vincent took the bath sponge, soaked it in the hot water, and squeezed it over her body. Her nipples were the first to respond, stiffening before his very eyes.

“I’ll try my best not to touch you,” he groaned. His eyes were fixed on her body, a dangerous storm of desire and focus in them. “But do know that if I end up touching you, it’s simply because I can no longer hold back. Do you understand?”

Juliana found herself nodding, when all she wanted to do was yell at the top of her lungs for him to touch her.

Tension wrapped ever so tightly around them, with Vincent’s slow and sensual scrubs and Juliana’s ragged breathing.

Yet, Vincent did not touch her any more than he needed to, but it only made her body ting in anticipation.

Vincent then dropped the sponge on the edge of the tub and dipped his hands into the water, caging her in, but still under the pretense of assisting her with her bath.

Slowly but surely, his fingers trailed down her body until they stopped at her entrance. Juliana took a deep breath and held it. She knew he was just washing her, so even if she made a sound, there was a high chance he wouldn’t touch her the way she wanted to be touched, so she held in her moans along with her breath.

And she found out she was sorely mistaken.

Vincent rubbed her nub, flickering at it as he did with his tongue last night.

“Don’t hold back your cries, sweet,” he encouraged, the urgency in his voice matching the speed of his fingers.

“Oh, Vincent!” Juliana cried out, biting her lower lip afterward.

“Are you sore?” Vincent suddenly asked, pulling his hands out of the water.

Now that she thought about it, Juliana felt a slight discomfort between her legs when she’d woken up earlier, but she’d forgotten about it until he mentioned it again.

“Only slightly,” she responded.

Vincent nodded and grabbed a robe to cover her after he lifted her out of the tub.

Juliana knew then that he wasn’t going to touch her any more than he already had, and that the very fact was sure to overturn her entire day.

And overturn her day it did.

Juliana was forced to press her thighs together to stop the throbbing between her legs.

It didn’t. In fact, it made it worse.

But what had really done it for Juliana was when she’d learned of Vincent’s absence in the townhouse.

She wasn’t entirely sure why she thought he’d remain at home with her all day. After all, he’d been the one who claimed he could kiss her the entire day. She had secretly hoped he would, until she was told the unfortunate news of his departure to a destination she knew nothing of.

Now in the drawing room she had chosen to spend her free time in, with a book in hand, all she wished to hear was news of his arrival. The weather was nice, but nightfall loomed around the corners, waiting for the right time to fully take over, and he had not returned yet.

Just then, a knock interrupted her thoughts.

“Come in!” she called out.

Lincoln stepped into the room. She still hadn’t gotten used to the fact that Lewis and Lincoln were twins. She felt as though she was interacting with the same person.

“Sorry to disturb your rest, Your Grace. However, a guest has come for His Grace.”

Juliana sat up at the news.

“A guest?” she asked, tilting her head unconsciously.

Lincoln nodded.

“Did you mention his absence?” she asked.

The older man nodded once more.

“It would be rude to turn away a guest,” Juliana muttered to herself and then nodded at Lincoln to let the guest in and offer them some light refreshments, thinking it was Lord Somerton who had come for Vincent.

Howbeit, Juliana was in for the shock of her life when she walked into the drawing room and found not Lord Somerton—or any man, for that matter—but a lady. A tall, slender, and very beautiful lady.

“Good day, Your Grace. I must apologize for coming without prior notice. My name is Hazel.” The lady’s exotic French accent floated in the air around Juliana.

Juliana blinked, star-struck. She couldn’t take her eyes off the woman. She had cat-like eyes, a small nose, and a wide mouth that promised mystery when she smiled. And her name was Hazel.

Was it a sobriquet or her given name? But most importantly, where and how did Vincent meet a lady like her? Juliana began to wonder as she watched the lady.

Simply judging by her appearance and accent, the lady did not seem to come from nobility, yet she carried herself with confidence that could rival the Queen herself.

A question, pressing and urgent, came to Juliana’s mind.

Was she a courtesan?

Juliana caught her thoughts, simultaneously returning to reality and noticing that she’d been standing there and staring at the lady without saying anything for a while.

She cleared her throat. “Please, have a seat,” she forced out.

The lady gave her a small smile and sat down. Juliana joined her.

“You must forgive my manners. I did not congratulate you on your nuptials. I trust you enjoy Blackmoor?” the lady asked.

Juliana was at a loss for words.

If she had heard correctly, the lady had unintentionally revealed that she had been to Blackmoor before.

Juliana felt her chest tighten. The lady was a beauty; it would be difficult for any man to resist her. Still, Juliana had felt she might be wrong, so she decided to ask.

“Yes. Blackmoor is wonderful, thank you.” She paused for a moment, before speaking her next words. “If you don’t mind my asking, how do you know my husband?”

Hazel lowered her head, before lifting it to reveal a small smirk on her lips. “I’m not quite certain I am allowed to tell you,” she said, shaking her head as though doing as Juliana asked was a chore.

“Do tell. I insist,” Juliana said with a sweet smile of her own.

Hazel truly was not allowed to answer the question because the door swung open and in came Vincent, his breathing ragged.

Vincent’s eyes locked onto Juliana’s first, before flicking to Hazel.

He knew there was only one reason Hazel would come to his residence. He’d been away working and interrogating people he thought might know Norfield’s whereabouts; he hadn’t expected to find Hazel waiting for him in his residence until one of the guards outside alerted him to her arrival.

“Hazel,” Vincent greeted, breathless.

“Your Grace.” Hazel curtsied with a slight bow of her head. “I was just apologizing to your wife for arriving without prior notice. Forgive my ignorance,” she said, her accent thick.

Vincent nodded and marched toward Juliana, who merely stared at him in awe.

“I shall speak with Hazel in my study. We shouldn’t be long,” he quickly whispered to her, planting a kiss on her cheek before walking away with Hazel.

Vincent wouldn’t say that he understood the look in Juliana’s eyes, but he knew he didn’t like what he’d seen. However, the meeting with Hazel was far more important.

Hazel was not her real name. Quite frankly, Vincent wasn’t sure anyone knew her real name. She’d introduced herself as Hazel the day they first met, and he hadn’t thought a thing about it because she was in a position where people hardly questioned her.

Hazel worked for the Crown as a messenger, hence her need for anonymity, especially because she grew up in France. Some said she was born to a French mother and an Englishman, while others said that both her parents were English. No one knew a thing about her, and that was what made her seem extremely untrustworthy to Vincent.

She was almost like a ghost—she usually lived like one. She seemed harmless, but it was all the more reason why Vincent didn’t want her anywhere near Juliana.

“You could’ve sent a missive to me, and I would’ve arranged a far more fitting meetup spot,” Vincent said and watched as the corners of her lips quirked up.

“You men are all the same. You marry and pretend to be decent human beings.” She chuckled.

But Vincent did not find her words even slightly amusing.

“Why have you come?” he asked, steering the conversation to more serious matters.

“The Crown and the Intelligence have expressed their dissatisfaction with your way of handling this mission. It has dragged on for far too long. Don’t you think?”

Vincent frowned at her words, but she was not wrong. Norfield’s disappearance was the longest case he’d had to deal with so far.

“They also wish to congratulate you on your wedding, but hope it won’t put a pause to the mission, seeing how closely related she is to the case,” Hazel added.

Vincent stilled. He’d known the higher-ups would find out about his marriage to Juliana and who she was, but he didn’t think they’d mind enough to mention it.

“The case will be handled swiftly. The traitor will be apprehended soon,” he declared.

Hazel held his gaze for a few seconds, and then, with a nod, she brushed imaginary dust from her dress and nodded.

“I shall relay your message to them. They’ll be pleased to hear it, especially since your wife seems not to be in the way,” she said, rising to her feet.

Vincent took a breath and rose as well, before leading her to the door.

“You must forgive me, for I cannot show you out. However, Lincoln will escort you outside,” he said to her, and she smiled slightly.

“I do not need the help. I shall show myself out,” she said and she was out of his study in a flash.

Vincent let out a breath, running his fingers through his hair. Thankfully, all he received were warnings. He would’ve hated for it to be something horrible, like taking him off the case.

It was the logical thing to do. However, he knew that the Crown and the Intelligence trusted in his ability to deliver.

His reputation was now on the line, and he would be damned to let Norfield ruin it.