Page 24 of The Duke of My Desire

“I envy you,” Gregory said, his grin easing into a wistful half-smile. “I always wanted a sibling. Someone to share things with I couldn’t share with anyone else.” He chuckled. “Not that my father would ever have permitted a pea war at the dinner table.”

He fell silent, thinking of his father, perhaps, or what his boyhood might have been like if he’d had a brother or sister for a friend and confidant. Telling him she’d loved having siblings to grow up with seemed insensitive but telling him she barely knew her siblings now seemed equally unkind.

“Your father was a strict man?” she asked.

Gregory leaned back against the dresser and crossed his arms over his chest, his expression thoughtful. “I suppose he was. He had certain expectations which he expected to be met, and that included his family’s conduct, both public and private.”

“That must have been challenging for you as a boy, being a duke’s heir and his only child. You were the sole bearer of all his expectations, as well as your mother’s.”

“Now you see why I wanted a sibling to share the burden.”

Justina’s heart squeezed at the image of a red-haired little boy, lonely and longing for a brother or sister to play with. “Well, seeing as we are already pretending to be siblings,” she said lightly, “perhaps you can think of me as the sister you never had.”

His gaze held hers for a single beat before dipping to her lips then slipping lower still, sweeping down the length of her body then back up to meet her gaze again, his eyes hot, his mouth curved into a wry half-smile.

“No,” he said softly. “I don’t think I can.”

Justina’s breath caught, and for one long, thigh-clenching moment she thought he might cross the room to her, toss back the bed linens and finally give her body what it so desperately craved.

Sadly, he did not.

Instead, he cleared his throat and said, “Well, it’s getting late. I suppose we should try to get some sleep.”

Heart thudding, Justina rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling as disappointment settled over her, cooling her desire. “Yes. I suppose you’re right.”

He snuffed out the candles, leaving only the dying fire’s glow, and she watched it dance and flicker on the ceiling above her, willing her body to relax. A creak rent the silence, then another, as Gregory settled onto the cot, and he let out a muffled grunt as the cot gave another creak of protest.

Justina, trying not to laugh now, said innocently, “Is everything all right over there?”

“Excellent,” he said, between another grunt and a creak, stubborn to the last.

Still smiling, she closed her eyes and nestled deeper into the covers. “Good night, Gregory. Sleep well.”

He wished her the same with characteristic politeness, and as she began to drift off to sleep, her last lucid thought was that it had been a very long time since she’d had so much fun with a man who still had his clothes on.

CHAPTER 7

Justina awoke the following morning engulfed in a deliciously warm cocoon. She snuggled deeper into the mattress and the strong, undeniably male arms encircling her, a dreamy sigh escaping her lips.

Then her eyes popped open and she stiffened as realization dawned. Gregory. Gregory was in bed with her. It was Gregory’s arms wrapped around her, Gregory’s chest pressed against her back.

Gregory’s hard arousal nudging her backside.

His rather impressive arousal, she thought, giving a searching little wiggle that sent heated shivers through her body, even as she acknowledged the strangeness of waking up with a man in her bed.

Since Phillip died, she’d made love with a handful of men, but she’d never slept with any of them, not once. She hadn’t wanted to. Falling asleep with a man, waking up beside him, had felt too intimate, too vulnerable. Too wrong.

Waking up with Gregory beside her didn’t feel wrong, though. It felt…nice. Safe. Perhaps because they hadn’t made love? Or was it because they were friends of a sort?

Gregory’s hand began to wander, slipping from her waist to her hip and down her thigh, squeezing and shaping until her breathing was decidedly uneven. She was moments away from rolling over and kissing him awake when the hand gripping her thigh went suddenly, perfectly still.

He was awake.

Feeling mischievous, she gave another wiggle of her backside against his erection, earning a hissing intake of breath that made her smile.

“Good morning, Gregory.”

He cleared his throat and his hand slid from her thigh as he slipped from the bed.