Page 22 of The Duke’s Second Bride (Regency Second Chances #4)

C hristian knew Ava was not a particularly short woman, but he still dwarfed her easily in height, to say nothing of the breadth of his shoulders. His hand remained around her wrist as they stared at each other, both breathing heavily.

When his hand loosened, it didn’t fully leave her; instead, it pulled away just enough to reach her hand to hold, instead of her wrist. Her fingers were soft, dainty, delicate, and silky smooth as they intertwined with his.

As they stared at each other, Christian felt a maelstrom of conflicting emotions rise within him.

On the one hand, her smallness and delicacy in contrast to his stature, particularly in these close quarters, made him suddenly, acutely feel as though he were in the presence of something unbelievably precious.

Here is a woman who should be cherished , he thought.

More than that, though, was the irresistible swell of lust that raged up within him. The softness of her hand conjured to mind the softness of her lips pressed against his.

Here is a woman who should be ravished, and yet she is married to a man who has sworn a thousand promises that he will not ever touch her.

Those same lips were now mere inches from his, parted slightly, pink and wet as she looked up at him with those shining hazel eyes. Her hair, swept up at the back of her head, also shone, and reminded him of how that same hair had looked tumbling down about her shoulders in her nightgown.

He wished he could see her in that nightgown again. The way her curves were so close, easily within reach to touch and pull against him, so few barriers between her skin and his. The softness of her. The heat of her.

Looking at her now, he wondered if she could feel that heat, too.

But then he remembered once again their argument on the night he had proposed.

Her insistence that he must surely want something from her, and then again, the way she had clearly not believed him, showing up at his room in that flimsy linen on their wedding night.

And how he, like some sort of uninhibited wild animal, had lost control and kissed her. God, he had only proven her right.

Was this all an act? Some show of obligation from her? She had been married once before, after all—and to a real cad, from everything he had heard about her former husband, and everything he knew about her former brother-in-law.

What if she was only gazing up at him with that hungry look in her eyes because she thought that was what he wanted, and felt as though she owed him for keeping her housed and fed?

No, he could never take advantage of her like that. He wouldn’t do it; he refused. He released her hand and stepped back.

“I will try to do better in … letting my son know I am proud of him,” he said stiffly. “And I will do my best to trust your … methodology. Though if you are able to find any other method than teaching him to speak to cats, it would be slightly preferable.”

Ava was clearly taken aback by the sudden change in demeanor. After a moment, though, she nodded, still frazzled but doing her best to pull herself together, and gave him a small, befuddled half-smile.

“Understood, husband,” she said. “I make no promises, but I can assure you that I only want what is best for Luke, as you do. You and I are aligned in our goals in that way. We both sincerely just want him to be happy and healthy and well.”

He nodded. “Yes,” he agreed. “Of course. And that is the only purpose of this marriage. Though let me remind you that, whatever our personal disagreements,” he added, “you are my wife, and have all the protections that come with that. You need never fear speaking your mind—fear of being sent out of home. This is your land now as much as it is mine and Luke’s. ”

“And Pudding’s,” she said.

He was relieved to hear that teasing feistiness re-enter her tone. While the mood was lighter, their argument more or less over, the air still crackled with tension.

“Yes,” he agreed, for no other reason than he needed the conversation to be over before he gave in to temptation. “Yes. Now, if you will excuse me, I must see to … something.”

And he left, before he did something incredibly stupid, like kissing his beautiful wife for the second time.

Christian spent the rest of the day a few villages over, partly to see to some business dealings his tenants had enquired about, and partly to avoid Ava. He would have been hard-pressed to admit which had a greater bearing on the decision.

Luckily for him, the business was grueling and took some time to go over.

Even more luckily, the tavern nearby was one of his favorites.

After the day he had been having, let alone the weeks prior, Christian knew only that he was in dire need of a drink.

And if it kept him out of the house and away from Ava longer, even better.

“Well, well, well. Fancy meeting you here,” came Vincent’s familiar voice.

Christian was half-relieved and half-exasperated at the sight of his friend.

On the one hand, it was good to have someone he could have a conversation with and distract himself from his woes.

On the other hand, Vincent would undoubtedly begin to make some untoward inquiries and jests as to the status of his marriage with Ava.

“I didn’t realize you were in the countryside,” he said to Vincent.

“I knew you were in the countryside—but I certainly did not expect to see you in this neck of the woods,” Vincent replied, a teasing note had entered his voice, and immediately Christian knew he was in trouble.

Still, he kept his voice and face even as he shot back, “You know I work with people here.” He took a sip of his whiskey, relishing the taste as it slid down his throat and warmed him from the inside.

Vincent raised an eyebrow. “I also know you are meant to be on your honeymoon right now,” he said. “What’s the matter? No wedded bliss for my brooding friend?”

Christian rolled his eyes. “You are awfully persistent with this thread of nonsense. If anything, I am in wedded brimstone and fire.”

Vincent let out a loud belly laugh. “Come on, man! Surely it cannot be so bad as that. You have a wife who is young and beautiful. She seems most interesting, intelligent, and agreeable, as well. Sophia seemed to take to her when they spoke at the wedding.”

Christian raised an eyebrow. “In such a short amount of time? I thought that they had barely spoken for a few minutes,” he said.

“Ah, you know women,” Vincent said, waving him off. “Though, of course, my Sophia is an impeccable judge of character, so I can say with one hundred percent confidence that your new wife is a gem. What possible problems would you be having with her?”

“She is …” Christian trailed off as his mind’s eye was filled with visions of Ava.

Ava, in her nightgown, hair like spun gold glittering down about her shoulders, as her tempting curves were highlighted in the candlelight, made temptingly visible through the thin muslin of her nightgown.

Ava, standing in the brilliant morning sunlight in the courtyard garden, inches away from him, with her pulse skipping in her wrist beneath his thumb.

Ava, the full length of her body pressed up against him, her lips succumbing to his, her breath intertwined with his, her arms wound about his neck.

And, of course, Ava arguing with him. Worse still, she very often had good points in her argument. How was he supposed to live a peaceful, happy life with a wife who not only took every chance to bicker with him, but stood her ground on every point she made against him?

Not to mention, it was infinitely unfair how much more kissable she became when she was in the midst of a passionate debate.

He shook his head, returning to his present conversation with Vincent. “She is infuriating,” he continued. “Exasperating, even.”

Vincent had been watching him the whole time of his reverie and looked at him now with a small, knowing smile on his face. “You know,” he said, leaning back in his seat, “there are several easy, engaging ways to deal with such … exasperation .”

“You are the most single-minded man I have ever had the displeasure of being friends with,” Christian remarked, “do you know that?”

“Ah, yes. But that is only because I am the only man stubborn enough to insist on friendship with you while disregarding your every effort to avoid socialization,” Vincent said, his ever-present smile plastered across his face even at this jest. “And you would be wise to heed my advice. As I am the one who has been the longest happily married, why would I lead you astray?”

“You seem to forget we married around the same time,” Christian observed dryly.

Vincent grimaced. “Yes, but this marriage is new,” he pointed out.

“It is practically as though you are starting from scratch. And, to hear it, you are off to a bad start. But fear not, my friend! As I said, you must simply vent your frustrations to her. Don’t let all of that anger build up, when it can be expended in so many more pleasurable ways. ”

When Christian didn’t immediately respond, he tilted his head, lifting a brow.

“Don’t act as though I haven’t seen the way you look at her,” he said. “Anyone at that wedding would have noticed how you clearly want?—”

Christian let out a wordless growl, then downed the rest of his drink, before slamming it down on the counter. “Enjoy the rest of your night,” he said.

“Ah, come now, Christian!” Vincent called after him. “Just think on my advice!”

By the time Christian returned to Richmond, the rest of the household was asleep. He couldn’t help but pause at Ava’s door as he passed it. He pressed one hand against the door and wondered if she were behind it, tossing and turning the way he surely would. Or perhaps she was sleeping soundly.

Perhaps she was dreaming of him.

He shook his head.

Don’t be foolish , he told himself, and then went to bed to dream of honey-blonde curls and fierce hazel eyes.