Page 43 of The Duke's Bride in Disguise

Chapter Nine

Kissing Lady Emily was far better than Raff had imagined it would be—and he had spent plenty of nights imagining this moment.

The woman in his arms was a heady mix of innocence and passion. It was obvious that no one had kissed Lady Emily before—a fact which made Raff want to roar with pride—but what she lacked for in experience, she made up for by being completely and utterly alluring.

Her scent, her skin, the taste of her lips; everything about his betrothed sent Raff's senses tingling with desire. His need for her was all consuming, and any thoughts of chivalry or propriety faded from his mind as Emily melted against his chest with a contented sigh.

You are to be wed, a wicked voice whispered in his ear, what harm is there in taking liberties?

His body wholeheartedly agreed with the wicked devil and he pulled Emily closer to him, so that he could savour the feel of the softness of her curves pressed against him.

He was close to losing control, a state that he had fought tirelessly against for a year, but he didn't care.

Just one more second, he told himself, then let her go...

"Please," Lady Emily pulled back from him, her voice breathless and shaky, "Please, Your Grace. I cannot. We must not."

Blazes.

Raff let go of her, allowing his arms fall to his side, instantly feeling bereft at the loss of her warmth. What had he done? The woman before him was shaking—from need or fear he could not tell—and her eyes were wide and frightened.

"I cannot," she whispered again, turning her face away from him.

Lud.

Raff took a shuddering breath, hoping that it would steady him. A crashing sense of guilt hit him as he observed Emily's rigid posture and shallow breathing. What had he done to her? He had lost all control and frightened her silly.

"I beg your pardon," Raff said stiffly, "I got carried away."