Page 13 of The Duke of My Desire

Good heavens, being a woman could be so exhausting sometimes. She tried so hard to stay safe, to take measures to protect herself, and still she found herself at the mercy of a man’s whims. Nigel had decided he wasn’t ready to let her go, and that single decision had upended her entire life.

Stupid man. She closed her eyes, hoping sleep would overcome her and allow her to forget her troubles for a while.

Alas, it was not to be. Sleep proved elusive for the rest of the day’s journey, and by the time their carriage finally rolled to a stop at the Fox and Hen Inn late that afternoon, Justina was quite tired—and tired of the carriage.

“Here we are,” the duke said with surely more cheer than one ought to have after a long day of travel.

“At last,” Justina grumbled, stretching her arms out as images of a steaming hot bath floated temptingly through her mind.

“Wait here,” he said. “I’ll check that the coast is clear.”

The duke—Gregory, she reminded herself—exited the carriage and gave their surroundings a long perusal before turning back.

“I think it’s safe,” he said as he offered his hand to help her down from the carriage.

He looked so handsome standing there, so delectably rumpled from travel with his crooked cravat and shadowed jaw that she stumbled on the first step and pitched forward, falling toward the hard ground below.

Two strong arms caught her around the middle and she collided with the duke’s broad chest.

He tugged her closer to steady her and she stilled, her eyes on his, now mere inches from her own. Everything, including her own heartbeat, seemed to freeze in time as he held her against his body, his gaze sliding to her mouth.

“Are you all right?” he asked, the words a rough murmur she felt in her knees.

“I’m fine,” she breathed. “Thank you.”

Disentangling herself from his arms, she smoothed her skirts back into place and headed toward the entrance to the inn, doing her best to ignore her wobbly legs.

“Welcome and good evening.” A portly man with kind blue eyes and a shock of thick, white hair greeted them from the receiving desk. “I’m Martin. Are you in need of a room?”

The interior of the inn was as neat and tidy as its exterior, surely a good sign that the bedrooms would be clean and the food at least edible.

“Two rooms, please, Mr. Martin,” Gregory said, coming up beside her. “We’ll be departing in the morning.”

The innkeeper shook his head regretfully. “I’m sorry, sir, but I’ve only one room available for tonight.”

The duke’s shoulders stiffened, and when he turned to look at her, his gaze was questioning, his cheeks faintly red.

He was leaving the decision up to her. Do we stay or do we go on to the next inn?

The thought of getting back in that carriage again made the decision an easy one.

“Thank you, sir,” she said to the innkeeper. “One room will be perfectly adequate.”

“Very good, miss,” Mr. Martin replied. “My wife will be along shortly to show you to your room.”

Gregory cleared his throat. “Right. Well. I suppose a brother and sister can share a room for one night without killing one another.”

Justina blinked at him, confused for a moment, then she smothered a smile as realization dawned. Oh, he was adorable, wasn’t he?

“I shall certainly try my best, brother dear,” she said with a sly wink. She had no qualms about sharing a room with him, but the situation clearly ruffled his dukely sense of honor, so she would play along, if only for his sake.

Gregory said nothing to that, but the flush in his cheeks had deepened and he was very obviously avoiding her gaze.

The innkeeper’s wife joined them a moment later, greeting them with a warm if weary smile. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to your room,” Mrs. Martin said. She was a stout woman with round cheeks and glossy brown curls beneath her white cap. “I do hope the accommodations will suffice. Our rooms are small, but they are clean.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Justina replied, following the woman up the stairs with Gregory behind her. “I am certain we will be most comfortable tonight.”

She wasn’t certain of any such thing, but it was the only response she could give the lady. The truth—that up until a day ago, this man she was with had been a total stranger to her but now she was having impure thoughts about him, and they would be sharing a room together—was not something she wished to share with strangers.