Page 104 of The Duchess He Couldn’t Resist

She laughed as she sat down and began fixing him a slice of bread with butter and jam. She fed it to him, and he kissed her fingers. For a while, they just sat and shared the simple breakfast, feeding each other. Brandon leaned over to lick some jam from the corner of her mouth.

“Is it one of those well-laid plans of yours to sit around in bed all day?” Marigold said.

“It really sounds like a genius plan.”

“I need to tend to my garden.”

“And I need you to tend to me,” Brandon demanded.

Marigold chuckled and kissed him. It was not that this morning was anything special. The special thing was that most mornings with him were like this. Easy, playful, teasing. And slowly her heart settled day by day, sure that from now on this would be her life.

* * *

After breakfast, Marigold changed into a simple dress and put on a work apron over it.

“So you are really abandoning me?” Brandon pouted.

“It would do you very well to be less dramatic.”

“If that’s the case, I am going to join you and help,” Brandon said, pulling on thick boots and an assembled shirt.

“Help?” Marigold inquired.

“What? I love seeing you getting dirty and sweating,” he smirked her way.

“Brandon!”

Still laughing, they made their way to the vegetable patch. The moment they stepped outside, Duck came close, demanding her cuddles. There was that part of the garden with rows of potatoes, carrots, onions, and cabbages. The shed was fully equipped, and Marigold smiled, happy to see the soil rich and dark.

Without ceremony, she knelt on the ground and checked the leaves of every plant, pulled a few weeds, and touched and refreshed the soil. Brandon made good on his promise and followed her, learning from her, listening to her talk about her garden so passionately.

“You’re obsessed with this garden. Should I be jealous?”

“I am not obsessed, I am devoted,” Marigold corrected him. “As for you being jealous, I will skip the fact that it would be utterly ridiculous for a duke to be jealous of his own garden and go straight to the part where I tell you that I love you like nothing else in the world.”

Brandon didn’t let her react anymore or add to this. Truthfully, there was nothing to be added. He just got up and pulled her into his arms. He leaned in and kissed her deeply. But he didn’t stop. He advanced, making her backtrack, and led her to a large oak tree at the edge of the garden. The branches were full and clean and made it seem as if they were in a private alcove.

Her back hit the trunk of the tree, and Brandon cushioned her head with his hand. He never stopped kissing her, exploring her mouth with his tongue. His other hand tightened around her waist, his thumb pressing into her hips.

She melted into him, unable to resist him. One hand tangled in his hair, and the other found that small pouch of flesh shone that through the half-opened shirt.

“Brandon,” she whispered, and she wasn’t sure if she was complaining or urging him on.

His hands slipped down her body, strong hands gripping her thighs. He pulled her up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. Her husband was insatiable, unable to get his fill of her, but she wouldn’t get to complain because she too could not get enough of him.

The kiss became slower, but that made it more devastating, his tongue sliding across hers in slow, sensual moves.

“It must be somewhere around here,” Owen’s voice cut through the air.

“How could we not remember where the vegetable patch is?” Lily was heard as well.

Brandon groaned and dropped his forehead to Marigold’s shoulder.

“I am going to kill him.”

“You’re not going to do such a thing. Instead, you’re going to step back and let me down on my feet,” Marigold smiled.

“No,” Brandon said.