Page 34 of The Duke's Only Desire

Sophie didn’t laugh as he’d hoped. He’d wanted that laughter to chase away the dejected expression darkening her beautiful face.

More punishment for him, he supposed.

“Ask the gardeners to help with the greenhouse,” he told her as he swirled the wine in his glass and watched the red drops sheet down the bowl in the firelight. “MacHeath should be able to free up time to help you. There’s not much to do in the gardens at this time of year.”

“Winter can be the busiest time of year in a garden,” she corrected. Then it became her turn to force a smile. “Gardeners are the most optimistic people in the world, you see. We plant bulbs as the world is dying, with only the cold and darkness ahead to greet our work. Then we wait for months without any sign of life, but we trust in our hearts that it was all worthwhile, knowing that when the spring sun warms the earth, the flowers of our labor will bloom. I trust in that, above all else.”

She meant far more than flowers. He countered, “And I take comfort in the cold and darkness.”

“Horseshit.”

He choked on his wine.“Pardon?”

“What gardens also need to flower,” she explained, deadpan. But from the way her eyes gleamed, the frustrating woman knew exactly what she had implied. Sophie was nothing if not the sharpest woman he’d ever met. And he loved her for—

No.He didnotlove her. Hecouldn’t. Loving her once had nearly destroyed him. Letting her invade his heart a second time would simply end him.

He set down his wine and pushed back from the table. “I’m not a garden, Sophie.” He leveled his gaze on her through the flickering candlelight. “There’s nothing left in me to bloom.”

“Horseshit,” she repeated. There was no doubt this time that she wasn’t referring to fertilizer. She placed her napkin on heruntouched plate. “Then I suppose dinner is over.” She glanced toward the open connecting door to her bedroom, as if leveling a challenge. “It’s time for bed.”

His gut tightened so swiftly that his breath caught from the force of it as he watched her rise slowly from the table. She hesitated for a moment at the side of the table, her sensuous lips parting slightly as if mulling over some playful flirtation. Then she silently turned her back to him and walked toward her room. Her back was nearly as enticing as her front, with creamy stretches of warm skin revealed from nape to sashaying bottom.

God help him, he couldn’t help but torture himself more by calling after her, “Aren’t you going to invite me to come with you?” He pushed himself to his feet. “That was the point of tonight’s dinner, wasn’t it? To seduce me into your bed.”

She stopped, not turning to face him, and her back straightened. He knew the stern posture was meant as a rebuke, but all it did was make him want to lick his tongue down her spine.

“Originally,” she admitted quietly into the cool darkness of her bedroom where no fire or candles burned against the winter’s night. “But not now.” Her head lifted proudly. “I would never ask that of a man who so obviously doesn’t want me, even if that man is my husband.”

She walked on.

Shay reached her in a single stride and encircled her with his arms from behind, stopping her. She inhaled sharply as he brought her against him, her bare back pressed against his chest with only the thin material of his shirt separating her warm flesh from his. He wanted to rip off his shirt and press her against him, warm flesh to warm flesh, but he knew he couldn’t do that. She’d see the true extent of the scars across his body, along with the ever-raw wounds to his soul, and she would loathe him forthe monster he was. But he could offer her this much of himself, if nothing more.

“Understand this,” he murmured as he lowered his mouth to her ear. “Whatever you think of me, whatever curses you level at me, however much you come to despise me—” His deep voice trembled as softly as her body in his arms, and his eyes squeezed shut as he admitted in a rasping groan, “You willneverbe able to fathom how much I want you.”