Page 23 of The Duchess He Couldn’t Resist

A wave of unfamiliar emotion crashed over Marigold, and no matter how hard she tried, she could not stop her eyes from filling with tears. She looked up at him as though trying to judge the sincerity of his words.

“I do not want her there,” she admitted firmly though her voice trembled. “I want one thing for myself.”

She closed her eyes as though expecting punishment to fall upon her for admitting such a thing, for saying aloud that she, too, was a person with wants and dreams.

Instead, all she felt was his breath fanning over her face, and she heard his low, dark, daring voice.

“Good girl.”

Her eyes snapped open at those words, and she met his gaze, hungry and ferocious. Her breath caught in her throat. She had not realized he was standing this close. Dangerously close.

She breathed in his scent, cedarwood and something deeper she could not name. It wrapped around her senses completely. She knew she should step back, should remember herself, but it was impossible while those dark eyes held her hostage. They fixed upon her with something even more frightening than open desire.

The fingers holding her chin shifted, and now, he cupped her jaw fully, his thumb brushing slowly across her lower lip. His eyes followed the movement.

She barely had time to inhale before his hand slid from her chin to the side of her neck, and he kissed her. Marigold made a startled sound against his mouth, her eyes widening, but he gave her no reprieve as he angled his head and deepened the kiss.

His lips moved with the clear intent of devouring her, and for the first time in her life, Marigold felt heat flood her body. It was as exhilarating as it was frightening. Without even realizing it, she swayed closer, clutching the lapel of his jacket.

In response, his fingers tightened slightly against her neck, and a low approving groan vibrated against her chest, jeopardizing what remained of her composure and sanity.

He finally pulled back just enough to allow them both to breathe. He studied her face for a moment before turning forward and offering her his elbow once more.

It took Marigold a moment to gather her soul back into her body and resemble a functioning human being instead of a woman thoroughly ravished by a single kiss. She straightened her hair and smoothed down her dress before wrapping her arm around his.

“You will be honest with me, sweetheart, from now on,” he said in that authoritative voice that did dangerous things to her insides. “And I will make certain your sincerity is rewarded.”

CHAPTER 7

NEW GOWN

Days had passed, and the Duke hadn’t called upon her, but that was not alarming with the wedding coming up. It was not at all customary for the bride to see the groom before the wedding, and that was a good thing because Marigold was still recovering from what happened at the Serpentine.

It was almost all that she could think of, especially now that she didn’t have to worry about her debts or the collectors. She had all the free time in the world to ponder on that kiss.

It wasn’t the mere touching of their lips that had her reeling. For the record, though, those thick, luscious, and velvety lips against hers were enough to deprive her of sleep for several days. It was everything that came before.

The fact that he gave her agency, that he demanded to know what she truly wanted. And the one thing that she still had to decipher: the way her body reacted when he hummed ‘good girl‘ so close to her. Or she simply could blame everything on the dog.

Reluctantly, mainly because if she stayed alone any longer, she would keep entertaining those silly thoughts, Marigold made her way to the drawing room for breakfast. They had been having luscious breakfasts the past few days. Not only did the Duke repay all of her debts, but he also paid the staff to come back with a full year of wages. And most importantly, word got around that she was about to become a duchess, so credit was easier to obtain.

“Good morning!” Claire seemed to be in a better mood each day the wedding got closer. “Don’t you think it is absolutely marvelous that you are getting married right when the season is blooming? Imagine all the invitations I am going to get because of that.”

Marigold didn’t comment. It was the recurring theme of the past days for Claire to talk about how her life was going to become better. She took her place at the small table and served her tea.

“Marigold!” Claire said suddenly. “You are about to become a duchess. You should immediately fix your posture and appearance.”

Marigold looked up at her mother, who was looking down at her with disdain.

“You are now entering proper society, and you need to learn to carry yourself better and make sure not to spoil my good name.”

Marigold would have loved to clarify what kind of good name she was referring to, but she had decided to be patient for the few days remaining until the wedding. Then she would not have to endure this daily.

Claire was ready to share more of her insights regarding Marigold’s adequacy to become a duchess when Alfred entered, holding a big box. Without even taking a second glance, Marigold knew it was from the Duke. A black lacquered box with silver embossing and an expensive ribbon that cost more than the current gown she was wearing.

Before she even had the chance to take a second look at the box, Claire grabbed it and placed it on the big table.

“But this is from Madame Shantal, the French modiste who has taken Mayfair by storm!” Claire behaved as if this gift were for her.