Home > Work > Duke of Desire (Maiden Lane, #12)
41 " God.' She'd tasted of oranges and honey and he'd felt her shake beneath his hands. He'd wanted to strip her right there in the carriage with his men riding outside.She was driving him mad. He couldn't look at her anymore without feeling the pull. And yet he could not send her away- everything inside him rebelled at the thought. She had to stay with him so that he could protect her. So that she could illuminate his darkness just a little. "
― Elizabeth Hoyt , Duke of Desire (Maiden Lane, #12)
42 " Tell me the truth, Raphael. Now. Tonight. No more evasions and lies. What is it you feel for me? Is it affection- or merely indifference?"He finally moved then, snatching the sketchbook from her hand and tossing it to a chair.He wrapped one arm around her waist and fisted her hair with the other hand, bending over her until she had to grasp those broad shoulders or fall. "Believe me, Wife, the last thing I feel for you is indifference."Then his mouth was on hers, devouring her, his hot tongue demanding that she part her lips and let him into her depths. "
43 " I want to be with you however you wish. I want that closeness. And I want that joy."She lifted her chin and met his gaze- even with her cheeks aflame.Something softened in his face. "I think you deserve much more."She shook her head. "No. We may not have married in the conventional way- I may not have chosen to wed- but I choose you now."A corner of his lips quirked up. "Then I'm content to take you to bed tonight, madam."She arched an eyebrow at him pointedly. "Content?"His lips curled even more. "Honored, thrilled, excited." He hid his mouth behind his wineglass. "There. Have I answered to your expectations?" He sipped his wine, but kept his crystal eyes on her over the rim.She felt a jolt between her legs. He was so... compelling when he let the ice melt in his eyes. When he let himself relax into that half smile. "
44 " He caught her and drew her against him, pressing kisses into her mouth as he murmured, "So beautiful So beautiful."He sat up to pull the covers over them both and then he took her into his arms as he lay back down.The fire crackled and the few candles still lit guttered and she thought, as her mind began to drift, that perhaps her feelings for her strange, dark husband might be more than just affection. "
45 " I believe in you, my darling. I believe in you."He closed his eyes.And when he opened them the ice had melted. He was looking at her with tears in his crystal eyes."Iris, my Iris," he whispered, and drew her lips to his.He kissed her like a man dying. Like a man taking his last breath.As if he cherished her.And something in Iris blossomed open and expanded in her chest and seemed so full it would make her burst. She wasn't sure she could contain this feeling, this emotion, she had for him.Her husband.She 'cared' for this man- rather a lot. Perhaps even 'more' than cared for him.The thought should frighten her, but all she felt was happiness.Happiness."Iris." He sounded desperate. Undone. And she realized his hands were shaking as he held her. "
46 " He rose up suddenly and turned her, so that she lay on the bed. He pushed up her skirts, found the ties to her panniers, and yanked them off and threw them to the floor. Then he was on her again, trailing his mouth down her neck, biting at her collarbone.She ran her fingers into the hair at the back of his head, grasping, trying to hold on as he moved on her so intently.He'd always been in control when he'd made love to her. Now he seemed moved by a sort of compulsion.An animal need. "
47 " She leaned forward, her expression determined. "Do you mean to sleep with me tonight?"He looked at her.She was like a dog that would not leave a bone. She sat across from him in his mother's old yellow dress- the same dress she'd worn ever since he'd risen from his sickbed. He couldn't wait to clothe her in brocades and velvets. To present her with everything she deserved as his duchess.Now her rose-pink lips were pressed into a line as she awaited his answer, her brows drawn together. She watched him very seriously.And dear God, he wanted to kiss her. To pull her from her chair and taste her sweet mouth again. To make love to her until she gasped and panted. "
48 " You tend a wound nearly as well as you dance."Her blue-gray gaze flicked up to his, wide with surprise. "I wasn't sure if you recognized me from the ball."This was intimate, her face so close to his. He naked and she with the upper slopes of her breasts uncovered. He felt hazy with desperate temptation. He could smell her, above the scent of his own blood- a faint flower scent.Not cedarwood, thank God."You're hard to forget," he murmured. "
49 " A wicked idea crept into his mind.She was a temptation- a temptation aimed at his one weakness. He'd walked alone for so long. For his entire life, really. He'd never thought to seek another. To permit any light into his darkness.But she was right here, within his grasp. To let her go again was beyond his control right now. He was weakened, dizzy, lost. Dear God, he wanted to keep her for himself.And the means to convince her to stay with him had just dropped into his lap. "
50 " He turned to see her glaring at him, her blond hair a halo about her head in the carriage's lantern light, and felt his lips quirk. She really was rather extraordinary.A pity he could not make her his wife in reality. "
51 " She was... different from other women in some way he still was unable to understand. She was more pure, more bright, more golden. She called to him on an animal level. Her song had seeped into his veins, his lungs, and his liver until he could no longer divide her from his marrow.He needed her.And now he was marrying her, Iris Daniels, Lady Jordan.The notion was as wrong as that of a spring robin tied to a carrion raven.Yet he could not stop this monstrosity. More, he'd kill any man who tried to gainsay him.He wanted her. "
52 " Iris gasped. Dyemore's mouth burned. Almost his entire weight had sagged against her- and he wasn't a small man- but it was the kiss that most startled her.He...She could taste him, the wine he must've drunk this morning, the scent of smoke in his hair, drifting about her face, the heat rolling off him in thick waves. He was so overwhelmingly large, so excruciatingly masculine.She'd been married. She'd been kissed before- of course she had- but it hadn't been like this.Nothing like this.It was as if everything that made her female was being awakened and called forth by everything male in him. "
