Page 20 of The Duke of My Desire

He nodded. “Ridiculous as it may sound, yes, I do. But I’m her only child—her only family, really—so...” He shrugged his shoulders as if to say, what can you do?

She admired him for his devotion to his mother, but she could certainly understand his frustration. He was a grown man, after all. He should be able to make his own decisions without feeling guilty about it.

“I’m sorry,” she said sympathetically. “I wish I could offer some helpful advice, but I’m afraid I have no clue how to handle a duke’s meddling mama.”

Gregory smiled. “Neither does the duke with the meddling mama.”

That smile of his was a dangerous thing, rueful and disarming and entirely too attractive for her peace of mind.

Right. Time to sleep.

“Well. Good night, Gregory.”

“Good night, Justina. Sweet dreams.”

But as she turned onto her back and stared up at the ceiling, she had a feeling her dreams tonight would be anything but sweet.

Not with this enigmatic, adorable, oh-so-desirable duke just across the room.

CHAPTER 6

Gregory rubbed his sore neck and closed his eyes, briefly shutting out the view of the countryside passing by his window as the carriage left the Fox and Hen behind.

Morning had come all too soon for his liking, which was an unusual sentiment for him. He’d been an early riser for as long as he could remember and usually loved mornings and the promise of a brand new day ahead.

Of course, he usually started his day in a proper bed, not a chair that hadn’t been comfortable since sometime last century.

Needless to say, he was exhausted. He’d tossed and turned all night in that damn chair, trying to find a comfortable position, to no avail. There was no comfortable position to be found, and he had the stiff neck and back to prove it.

Of course, his sleep troubles weren’t solely the fault of the chair. Some of the blame lay with the woman beside him, peering out her window at the drizzly autumn day.

She hadn’t meant to, but Justina had tormented him nearly as much as the chair.

She’d had no trouble falling asleep last night, or staying asleep, and he knew this because he was awake all night, and heard her every breath, every sigh, every little movement that rustled the cotton sheets or made the oak bed frame creak.

It was hell.

It might have been amusing if it wasn’t so pathetic. So indecent.

He was supposed to be helping her, for pity’s sake, not lusting after her like some single-minded beast in heat.

His mind and his conscience knew that, but his body didn’t care. His body simply wanted her, any way it could have her, and no amount of reasoning or shaming had helped.

And now here he was, trapped in a carriage with her, with no ruddy idea when he would find a private moment to ease his discomfort.

He sighed. He wasn’t usually like this. He didn’t spend his days in a constant state of arousal, but there was something about Justina that affected him like no other woman had.

He probably wouldn’t want her so badly if he didn’t like her so much. She was gorgeous, yes, and he absolutely wanted to see her naked, but there was more to the attraction than just her physical attributes.

He liked being with her. He liked her intelligence, her wit, her kindness. She made him laugh.

And he was going to miss her when they said goodbye.

“Gregory?”

He turned and found Justina watching him, a crease between her brows.

“Are you certain you’re well?” she asked. “You’ve been very quiet this morning.”