Page 13 of The Duke’s Goddess (Duke Dare #2)
“The whole secret lies in confusing the enemy, so that he cannot fathom our real intent.”
—Sun Tzu
THE NEXT MORNING JAMES woke from a restless sleep. It had been impossible to close his eyes without seeing Joan’s face full of pleasure. Head lolled back, eyes half-lidded. And every time he closed his eyes and saw her experiencing that pleasure, a pang of lust shot down his back, up his legs, and met in the middle.
One visual from the dream stood out, and he knew he wouldn’t be forgetting it anytime soon. He saw her dancing in his arms with a shimmering smile locked on her lips. They started in a ballroom, but in a flash they were in a bedroom. He couldn’t be sure if it was his, but the bed was large. And then she was underneath him. Writhing. Her hair strewn about on the pillow, her eyes heavy, almost closed, just as they had been in the garden. She was saying his name and he was hovering over her. Their clothes were in heaps around the room. With nothing on, he could feel her soft skin against him everywhere. He was hard. Throbbing. And she was arching up into him. He was restlessly edging closer to her entrance. She was saying something to him, pleading, and just before he could respond, the dream vanished.
When he awoke, his cock had been pressed up against his pillow. Hard. Aching. The need for her was driving him. Compelling him. Energizing him. Remembering her passion and responsiveness caused his arousal to swell.
He rolled over onto his back and palmed himself. He gripped the base of his cock and pulled up in one smooth motion. He groaned in partial relief, the sound extending his length. Knowing the pleasure he could have, he closed his eyes and imagined her. His goddess.
Envisioning her smile. Her laughter. He recalled her quirky interests. Her passion for people. And daggers. It brought a smile to his own face, and he started pumping harder. Base to tip. Back down. Base to tip. He could feel precum on his tip. Clenching his jaw. Pleasure pooling in his spine. The warmth of her brown eyes overtook his vision and heated his heart. He gripped himself harder. One hand played with his balls while the other tugged up and down.
Tightening at the base of his cock. Heat flooding his groin. Pleasure throttling his limbs.
Two more pumps.
White-hot pleasure ripped through him. A ragged breath left his body.
He was sated, but not relieved. It was nothing like being with her in person. And last night in the garden had been like nothing he had ever felt before. Joan.
She was beautiful. Considerate. Intelligent. And so damn responsive to his touch. Just thinking of her made his cock twitch, and he had just taken care of himself. But it hadn’t been enough. He wanted her. Yet not as a wife. He was not made to love or be loved. He knew that too well. His mother had made sure to instill that lesson in him. A man was made for two purposes: provide and procreate.
His father had provided food, shelter, and security. James's basic needs had been met his whole life, so his mother endlessly reminded him. And now it was his turn to procreate and provide. Only, James had no interest in perpetuating the lifeless cycle.
There had been no affection, not even a hint of it, from his parents. Love (if one could call it that) was defined as meeting needs. Keeping family a satisfied. His parents had contained him in a bubble. Riding slow horses and being cautious around everyone. Everywhere. Danger lurked behind every bush. Only family could be trusted, and hardly them. For his eighteenth birthday, he had received the one and only gift his parents ever gave him. Weren’t their daily provisions enough? The gift was a book called The Art of War written by Sun Tzu. James abhorred it with everything in his being, yet he kept it to remind himself of the love his parents had for him. Of course, he had rebelled. Fast, faster, and the fastest horses were all he rode. He lived for a dare. To be reckless.
And no, he would not provide, nor would he procreate, for anyone. This life he had he would live only for himself. Love? Ha! He would have laughed in the face of love if he believed love had a face, or even existed at all.
So no, there was no such thing as love. There were complex feelings and lust.
That’s how he knew that while he wanted Joan…there was no future for them. Lust never paved the way to a happily ever after. But maybe he could just see her again. There was no harm in being around her.
After the passion had settled last night, he wasn’t sure what to expect from his dagger-weilding paramour. If he could call her that…
But all she had done was take a small step back (considering the confined space) and say, “Thank you. For th-that.” He chuckled as he recalled her slight stutter and the way she had tucked her hair behind her ear. When he had tried to interrupt her, she halted him with a hand to his chest. It had stopped his words as well as his breath. That small delicate touch. And then she looked him dead in the eye and said, “We got caught up in the moment. I have no expectations.”
Then, they had waited awkwardly (which was putting it lightly—it had in fact been the most awkward fifteen minutes of James's entire life) while Sally and Jacob finished dressing and talking and returned to the house. James and Joan had followed at a distance, and that was the night. What a night. James was still reeling.
And yet he needed to see her again. They were no longer in cahoots to seal Sally and Jacob’s relationship. Clearly, all the sealing that needed to be sealed had been sealed last night. So in order to see her again, he had to be more clever.
Though if he were being honest with himself, clever was not his strongest attribute at the moment. His cleverness was so reflected in his conversation with Sam and Chris. He knew she liked to practice throwing her daggers at targets, so she had told him before. Knowing of one site for archery practice, that’s where he was headed, but he didn’t want to show up alone. That would be too obvious. Obvious of what…he wasn’t sure. He just knew he never wanted to be so ostentatious.
So James stood outside the breakfast room waiting for his friends to exit. They should be out any minute.
“Duke?” a sultry voice greeted him.
He looked up into the smoldering eyes of Lady Whitney. It was still early in the morning, but if James had stopped to notice, the widow was radiating heat of the bedroom variety. He did no such thing though.
“Lady Whitney. Good morning,” he tipped his head and looked away to dismiss the possibility of chatter—idle or otherwise. He was waiting for his friends.
“Do you have plans this early in the morning?” her husky voice dropped in volume as she leaned in and stroked a finger up his forearm.
“Yes, thank you. Enjoy your morning.” He really wasn’t looking to have a conversation with anyone except Sam and Chris.
“Oh? Might I convince you to exchange your plans for something more tantalizing upstairs?”
“No, thank you.” His eyes flickered over to the breakfast room door, to see Chris and Sam finally emerging. Realizing her hand was still on his forearm, he extracted her claws and moved toward his friends while Lady Whitney departed.
“What was that about?” Sam asked.
“Nothing,” he answered, waving off the question.
“It didn’t look like nothing,” Chris chimed in.
“Was it nothing of importance or nothing of interest?” Sam pried.
James shook his head. “What’s the difference?” He huffed, frustrated that his friends were so caught up on a moment in time that he had hardly noticed.
“Well,” Sam slapped him on the back, “it looks as though the widow was propositioning you—which is of importance—and that you were rejecting her—which means she’s nothing of interest.”
“And?”
“You don’t find that…important and interesting?” Sam asked with a light chuckle.
“What are you talking about?” Clearly vexed now, James furrowed his brow.
“It just seems that she’s someone you would normally take up that offer with,” Sam explained.
What was Sam talking about? Why was he so caught up on the widow? So what if he didn’t want to bed her. It was early in the morning. It didn’t signify.
“We should go for a walk.” No other explanation needed. This was the reason he had been waiting for them. It was just a simple plan laid out before his friends.
Sam and Chris just stared at him as he made his pronouncement.
“Where are we off to?” Sam asked dubiously, as if he could already read into James's plan. Of course he couldn’t.
“Nowhere in particular. Just need to get some fresh air and exercise. Don’t be lazy.”
“We weren’t—” Chris started to say.
“No time to chat.” Facing the two men, James flapped his arms wide and clapped his hands down, one on each man’s shoulders. “Let’s go.”
Sam offered half a smirk and Chris smiled casually. “I could use the air,” Chris said.
“We could all use air. It’s a known human dependency.” Sam cracked a full smile now.
“Right then. Off we go,” James almost winced at his last turn of phrase. Something he was pretty sure he had never said in that exact tone before. An altogether too high pitched tone with uncredited eagerness. “I mean,” he dropped his voice to a lower register, “Let’s get out of here.”
Sam chuckled as James turned around to walk outside. James was pretty sure he heard Sam mumble something about twenty pounds to Chris. When he glanced back, Chris merely shrugged one shoulder and shook Sam’s hand.
“What’s that about?” James inquired.
“Nothing. Just an old bet,” Sam said cagily.
“And you’re not going to share that with me?”
“No.” Sam sauntered ahead of him, mimicking, “Off we go!” which made Chris chuckle.
It only took a short time before James regretted bringing his friends along with him. Sam kept suggesting different turns or pathways to take. It was growing more and more difficult to nonchalantly demand that they all forge ahead in the direction James intended they take.
“I think this looks like a great path to take,” Sam was saying again.
“That goes down to the stables.” James had no idea where it led except that it was not to the archery targets. “Not interested in the stables,” he mumbled as he ambled forward.
“I’d be curious to see their stables.” Sam’s voice was unusually optimistic.
James was growing more irritated by the second, so when he whirled around to Sam, his loud voice caused Sam to raise his hand defensively. “If anyone would be interested in seeing the stables it would be me. I’m not interested in them, ergo neither are you two.”
“Not sure that’s how that works,” Chris added unhelpfully.
“Where are we going then? What are you interested in seeing?”
James's blood was boiling. Couldn’t Sam just drop it and follow along for once in his life? “Nature. I just want to see some damn nature, all right? Now can we quit chatting like a bunch of mother hens and get on with it?”
“Huh. Never really thought I’d see the day…” Sam intentionally left the thought unfinished as he poked Chris in the arm. “Wasn’t he just saying he would never?”
“Never, what? What are you talking about?”
“Nature,” Sam said with a chuckle. “Show us more of this nature you want to see.”
“Fine.” James stomped onward. After emerging from a small copse of trees, James sighed in relief. A few yards away was Joan. His shoulders dropped in ease and a small smile played at his lips.
“Ahh….nature,” Sam exhaled roughly as he extended both arms out to his sides. “The beauty of nature can’t be beat.”
“Drop it,” James urged, only causing a low rumble of a laughter to emerge from Sam.
“You owe me twenty pounds,” Sam called over his shoulder to Chris.
James stared straight ahead, but he heard the slap of hands and the exchange of money.
“It seems as though you can’t stay away from nature . When did that happen?” Sam asked.
“I’m not sure what you mean.” There was no point in denying Sam’s question, but James didn’t really want to process all of his thoughts at the moment. He just wanted to be around Joan again.
“I’m not sure who you’re trying to fool, James. If you like the chit, just court her.” This coming from Sam, the man who was also a self-proclaimed bachelor. The most competitive man James knew. So if he was planning to do something, he committed to it. He made it happen. There were very few times Sam didn’t accomplish his goals. If he wanted to be a bachelor, then he would be one. If he wanted to interrogate James, he wouldn’t stop until he got the answer he was looking for.
Despite the knowledge of Sam’s persistence, James attempted to deflect him. “I can’t do that,” James finally answered. There was no way he would court Joan. She was a lady. He was a rake. She wanted love. He didn’t even believe it existed. They weren’t going to happen.
“Why not?” Chris asked.
“I’m never going to marry.” Saying the words he had always said felt empty this time. For far too long he had believed that he couldn’t have a family. Couldn’t perpetuate the neglectful childhood he had experienced. And still, he couldn’t imagine a wife, marriage, and children. But…something had shifted inside of him, leaving him frustrated.
“Then what are we doing here?” Sam challenged. James stared at his friend. A friend of too many years to count. And while he didn’t exactly want to punch him in the mouth, he didn’t exactly not want to either. It was one option to shut him up. But when James considered not only the bloody mess that would cause but also the unnecessary chaos, he opted out of punching.
“I have no idea. But since we’re here…” James strolled toward the targets. Less of a stroll and more of a magnetic force drawing him, pulling him, relentlessly, toward Joan. What was it about her that he found so intriguing? Certainly her affinity for daggers could be part of it. And of course, her kisses from last night…
But every woman could kiss…though not like her. And not every woman had such an inclination toward blades. So blades it was.
Then, to pull himself out of the rabbit hole he was falling down, he bellowed, “Hello!” Anything to quit the current conversation he had been having with his friends and then with himself. His friends knew nothing. Didn’t they know his past family life? He would make a terrible husband, never mind father.
He didn’t want to think about the future he couldn’t have. Wait. He meant, the future he didn’t want to have. All he wanted to think of was Joan. And there she was. Nearly black hair, soft tresses escaping her coiffure, floating softly in the breeze. Her eyes flew to him in surprise. Her hand was raised with a dagger. Yes, that was very intriguing about her.
Especially considering that she was aiming at him.