Page 31 of The Duke Meets His Match

She’d never seen a man’s naked chest before, but she knew without a doubt, that no one else of her acquaintance could ever compare.

Certainly not Henry.

Michael had the body of a soldier. He appeared strong and muscled from hours of disciplined training. He was no dandy or coxcomb or spoiled aristocrat who’d never known physical labor. Her fingers trembled with the need to touch his flesh, to run her fingers down his chest.

Deep lines slashed between his dark brows, and he tossed on the bed. “Gavin…no…no. Look out!”

Chloe’s eyes flew to his face, and a heavy feeling settled low in her stomach at his distress. He was clearly in the throes of a nightmare. Whatever feelings she had for him, desire and anger, her heart ached to see him in pain. She reached out to touch his arm and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Your Grace.”

He moved so fast she didn’t have a second to breathe. Her wrist was caught in a powerful grip and she was pulled down and across his chest. He rolled, taking her with him and pinning her beneath him. Engulfed by his weight, she couldn’t move an inch.

Her heart slammed against her chest. She was aware of every rigid angle, every powerful muscle, and his hardness pressing between her thighs made her inhale sharply at the contact. His dark visage was fierce and unyielding as he hovered above her, and she experienced a trepidation of fear.

He’d reacted instinctively, like an experienced soldier who’d been threatened.

“Your Grace!” She gasped. “It’s Chloe.”

He blinked and focused on her face inches from his. “Chloe?”

“Yes…yes. It’s me.”

His merciless hold on her arms eased. “Why are you here?”

“I…I was worried about you after last night.”

His mouth was set in a grim line, his gaze narrowed and determined. “Christ. I could have killed you. Crushed you as easily as a twig. How the hell did you get into my bedchamber?”

“Your butler and housekeeper told me you were still abed.”

One dark eyebrow shot upward. “I’m surprised either permitted you to enter here.”

“They didn’t. I let myself up here.”

“Why does that not surprise me?”

His voice lowered to an intimate whisper and she became even more aware of his hardness pressed against the apex of her thighs. The coverlet had fallen aside so that a thin sheet and her own clothing were the only barriers between them.

Sweet Lord. His manhood seemed so…large. She should have been more afraid—any proper female would have been—but Chloe had never been proper, had she? Instead her initial fear ebbed as she lay soft and pliant beneath him. The physical contact stoked a gently burning fire, and she was powerless to stop the wicked thoughts that came to mind. She was wildly curious by nature, and the hushed whispers of the servants and her own married sisters when they thought she wasn’t listening had always fascinated her.

She couldn’t stop wondering: what would it be like to know the duke intimately. Would he be gentle or demanding or both?

Their gazes locked, and a corner of his lips turned up in a wicked smile as if he sensed what she was thinking. His pupils expanded, black and gold flecks in his eyes. “I suppose I should be grateful for your impetuous nature which led you here. At last, I have you right where I want you.”

All her senses heightened because of their position and his heated words. “Let me up. This is indecent.” She flattened her ungloved palms against his chest, whether to push him away or to simply touch him, she wasn’t certain. His flesh was hot and enticing, and her fingers curled into his muscles and the light sprinkling of hair.

A sizzling, predatory glimmer sparked in his eyes. “You should have thought of that before you entered a bachelor’s bedroom.”

He shifted, and she felt him even more firmly. Every nerve ending in her body came alive, and liquid warmth surged between her thighs. She struggled to control her raging emotions, the delicious sensations coursing through her veins. “You were having a nightmare. I was merely concerned.”

“Why?”

Because I can’t stand to see you suffering. Because I’ve suffered from bad dreams for years. And because your kisses steal my breath and my body hums when you touch me.

She tried to turn her face away, but he gently held her chin. There was no escaping his probing gaze. She struggled for an answer to his question, something that would pacify him and keep her uncomfortable feelings hidden, but it was too damned difficult with his magnificent body pressed against hers.

“Tell me why?” he insisted once more.

“Because I know that I’m grateful when someone wakes me from a nightmare.”