Page 12 of The Duke’s Defiant Angel (Dukes Gone Dirty #1)

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E vangeline had no patience left to spare. “That will be all, thank you.”

She forced a smile as she sent the maids away, so she might find some reprieve with a bath.

Bathing had always calmed her in the past. Besides, it gave her something to do.

Not that she was bored, necessarily. How could she be when Raff had taken such measures to make sure she was occupied and entertained every minute of the day?

No, she was not bored. Just...restless.

Again.

She sank into the steaming water and let her head fall back against the tub’s edge.

Restless again. Always.

She shivered despite the heat, her hands idly gliding over her too-sensitive skin.

What was the matter with her? She’d never been so unsettled before. And this unease had nothing to do with Raff. How could she complain about his actions when he’d been the perfect gentleman these past few days, since they’d visited his friend, the Earl of Foster.

Poor man.

She sank further into the water with a frown at the memory of that tragic gentleman and his mother. So much sadness. So much grief.

And yet, she’d enjoyed her time there. Very much. It was her first time seeing Raff interact with anyone aside from her and a handful of servants who treated him like some god. But watching Lord Foster tease him and laugh with him as a friend—it had been eye-opening.

And watching Raff with Lord Foster—that had been enlightening as well.

She wasn’t sure she could ever view Raff as the cold, unemotional duke any longer, not after seeing how much he cared. Oh, he covered it well as any gentleman would. He did not fawn or coo like a lady might have over an injured, grieving friend. But he’d been protective and thoughtful. Kind, in his own way.

She frowned now, splashing her fingers a bit as her mind tried to untangle the knot it had created this past fortnight.

They were set to leave on the morrow, back to London. She ought to be glad for the fact that she’d see her parents again. Perhaps even Albert, though she knew now, she would never take him up on his offer to save her. She supposed she’d always known it was not truly an option, but now it was not even a vague possibility to dream about.

Raff might have his faults. Indeed, he’d shown them all to great effect in the way he’d claimed her like he was some medieval ruler. She huffed, but even as she tried to summon up her initial self-righteous anger, she felt it. This new stirring that she couldn’t seem to stop.

It happened whenever thoughts of Raff came to mind. Angry or affectionate, it didn’t seem to matter. Her body reacted the same way.

Even now, she looked down at her naked body to see her nipples hardening, and lower, there was a deep, insistent ache forming between her thighs.

An ache that hadn’t been relieved since that night in the kitchen when he’d pressed his mouth to her entrance. When he’d made love to her so skillfully with his tongue and hands.

Her head dropped back with a gasp at the memory.

But it was another memory that had her hand skimming down her body, over her breasts, and sliding slowly toward the curls that covered her mons.

He’d shown her how to find relief.

She could do it now. She bit her lip. Couldn’t she?

“Evangeline?” The duke’s voice calling her name made her start, and water sloshed over the sides.

His voice was close, right next to the adjoining door that led to his bedroom.

She ought to tell him she was bathing. She should say “stay out.” But instead, she heard herself say, “Come in.”

He opened the door and stopped short. The change in him was instant, and it put that earlier ache to shame.

Need was a desperate, clawing monster in her lower belly, begging to be touched and adored. Her skin tingled and burned everywhere his gaze fell.

And it fell everywhere.

In a heartbeat, he took her in, from head to toe. The darkness in his eyes when they met hers should have been frightening. It wasn’t just desire; it was lust. It was possessive, and it was brutal. It was merciless.

If she had any sense of self-preservation, she would send him away. But she couldn’t. She didn’t want to.

A wolf peered at her with hungry eyes, but in that moment, she knew.

She understood.

Her heart was hammering in her chest, and her hands trembled. But there was no fear there. Not even a flicker of terror.

He would not hurt her.

The knowledge flooded her with courage. More than that, she felt dangerous. She wanted to push. She wanted to tease.

She felt…

She felt…

What was this feeling?

Slowly. Ever so slowly, she stood. Water sloshed, and her breathing was too loud, too shaky.

But as his gaze raked over her and she jutted her breasts out for his perusal, her hands sliding over herself in a way that made him groan…

This was power.

She’d had a taste of it once before, but that was nothing compared to this. Because now she knew what she did to him. What was more, she knew with certainty that she was safe with this man. He might push, and he might taunt, but he would never take what she was unwilling to give.

He would never hurt her.

His lust made her ache, yes, but it also made her chest swell and her spine straighten.

His desire for her was heady. She’d missed it these past few days when he’d been such a gentleman. Kind, polite...but distant.

He hadn’t let her see any of this animalistic desire. And oh, Lord, how she’d missed it.

“You’re playing with fire, Angel,” he growled.

She smiled. She couldn’t help it. She knew precisely what she was doing.

“I trust you,” she whispered.

He looked nearly as shocked by that admission as she felt.

And what it did to his gaze… His eyes grew darker still. But softer somehow, that lust tempered with affection.

It made her heart ache just as much as that place between her thighs.

She meant it. She trusted him not to touch her no matter how tempted he might be. He’d made a vow, and he wouldn’t break it.

His gaze followed a drop of water that was traveling down her neck. She looked down, too, and they both watched as it hovered on the tip of her nipple.

She peeked up at him, and the air rushed out of his lungs.

He was a man transfixed, his gaze so intense it was as though the fate of the world rested on that little droplet of water.

Meanwhile, she had this weighted feeling. A knowledge, really—that the fate of their marriage rested on this moment.

On her. And what she did next.

Would she continue to hold him at bay? Would she fight the inevitability of what was to come?

Or would she embrace her future?

Would she embrace him ?

A flicker of fear rose up, but she squelched it with a deep breath, her hands fisting at her sides.

He noticed the change in her and finally tore his gaze from her tight, needy nipples to meet her gaze.

“Raff,” she whispered. “This is me...begging.”

She held her breath as he stilled. The hunger in his eyes was like nothing she’d ever seen. For a moment, she doubted herself.

For a second, she was scared.

But then he strode toward her and scooped her into his arms, lifting her easily and holding her wet body tightly to his chest. The fear was replaced with a desire so sudden and so hot, she forgot how to breathe.

His voice was gruff, but his hold was gentle as he held her to him. “There’s no turning back now, love.”

Love. The word lingered in the air between them. Just a term of endearment, and one he’d used before, but it still wrapped around her now and gave her strength.

She lifted a hand and cupped his cheek with her palm.

He growled soft and low, but he pressed into her trembling touch.

“You’re my husband,” she said simply. “And I am ready to make this a real marriage.”