Page 54 of The Duke of Pain

Evict him, will he?

He would make certain Watford paid the price.

Chapter 16

Olivia decided to sleep in Gideon’s bed. His scent gave her comfort in his absence. Already she missed him, and he had barely been gone twenty-four hours. She snuggled closer into the pillow and inhaled. A pleasant ache throbbed between her legs. Last night, they had managed to make love many times, and again that morning. Truly, she had no idea sex could be so—enjoyable.

Soul-stirring—so heartbreakingly intense.

Gideon concealed his emotions much the way she did. But when they were alone together, the walls around their hearts disintegrated. Olivia had seen the change in him.

In the past, she’d heard gossip of his cold disregard for people in general. But now, he had joined a group of progressive men in Parliament to bring positive change to those less fortunate.

Oh, how it revealed the well-hidden good man that had resided inside him all these years.

When Gideon looked at her, the ice in his dark eyes melted. His smile radiated as glorious as an early morning sunrise.

Two people resided inside him, Gideon the compassionate man and passionate lover, and the domineering haughty Duke of Watford. Make that three men living within him. There was also the damaged and scarred boy.

Perhaps that was what she feared most, that the other two would take over, and Gideon would cease to exist.

As far as the future, and in what capacity she would be with him, and for how long, was not something Olivia wanted to contemplate today; she was too deliriously happy.

And there was no denying she was falling in love with Gideon.

There.

Olivia admitted her feelings to herself at last. Satisfied she had worked out her internal issues, she began to drift off into a deep sleep.

The door to the bedroom burst open, and two brawny men entered, closing it quietly behind them. One held a lit lantern, and the other carried a rather large knife.

“Not a peep, princess. Or I’ll gut the first person that bursts through that door, understand?”

Cold fear gripped her tight. Holding the blankets up to her chin, she nodded.

“Look at her, all cozy-like in the master’s bed. I’ll bet it’s soft. I’ll bet you’re soft.” The taller man grinned; yellow teeth were visible in the shadows from the illuminated light.

Not again. Two men.

The memory of her brutal attack flickered through her mind. She would not survive another violation.

“Where are your things? Speak up! We haven’t got all bleeding night.” Yellow Teeth demanded.

“Room down the hall,” she croaked.

The other man grabbed her arm roughly and pulled her from the bed so suddenly that she fell to the floor.

“Here now, keep it quiet. It’s past eleven, and we don’t want no disturbance. No harm to the staff if possible.”

“Right,” replied the other man. “He didn’t say nothin’ about no harm to her, though.”

Who was this ‘he’ they spoke of? Olivia’s insides knotted, her mind racing in all directions.

Yellow Teeth grabbed her arm and brought her roughly to her feet.

“Listen to me. The Duke of Watford wants you gone from his home and bed. You’re never to return, nor contact him.”

He laid the knife across her cleavage. The cold blade pushed against the top of her breasts.