Page 26 of The Duke Who Claimed Her

“Strange men?” The words seemed to upset him. “I am your husband.”

“In name, perhaps.” The surprise of the moment had gone, and Arabella drew herself up. “But that is all. As far as I am aware, you are practically a stranger. Which, from what I have gathered, is exactly how you want it.”

“You sound upset.”

“I am not,” she said, even if her words lacked conviction. “In fact, the more that I have thought about it, the more I have come to decide that I agree with you.”

“Agree with me?” As her eyes adjusted to the light, Arabella was able to better make out the Duke’s face. Even in the dark, the sharp lines of his perfect face were unmissable, and Arabella did her best not to notice them. Although the way her eyes lingered certainly did not help. “Agree with me in what way?”

“You have made it quite clear what this marriage is to be,” she said, focusing on his eyes. Another mistake, because they were alluring, the type that trapped once they had you in their hold. “One of convenience where you and I are little more than strangers.”

He grimaced and looked away. “That is not… I do not wish for you to loathe this marriage, Arabella. I would like for it to be…” He looked at her again, down at her, seeming to somehow stand even taller than he had been. “My intent was to rescue you from your father, so that you might have a better life here.”

“Which I will,” she said. “So long as you do not try to control me. Hence, us being strangers. I will have little to do with you, and you will have little to do with me. Is that not what you want?”

“No…” He spoke the word as if he had to force it. “That is not what I want.”

“Oh?” She blinked, surprised by his rejection. “Obviously, I will do what I can for Timothy, that is something you do not need to⁠—”

“I did not mean it like that.” His words became sharp, almost angry. Standing over her, his gray eyes again roamed her body, and she saw a hunger flash behind them.

Arabella caught her breath. She had been so determined to say her piece, to make her position known, that she had almost forgotten the reason this conversation was possible in the first place. It was her wedding night. Her husband had come to her room, and, though she knew little of such things, even she was not so ignorant as not to guess why.

The dynamic between them flipped suddenly.

Arabella shrank back, her confidence gone. The Duke stood taller and firmer, his gray eyes still fixed on her. A silence descended, trapping them in it. And while Arabella knew that she ought to have shut the door and be done with it, she could not bring herself to do so.

She wanted nothing to do with him. A life of her own, but the way he looked at her, the want evident in his eyes, common sense left her, replaced by a stirring in her stomach and a fire spreading across her thighs that she had never felt before.

What… What is that?

“You are…” He sucked through his teeth as if trying to control his anger. “You want freedom, but you would not know what to do with it if you had it. No, I do not think that freedom is what you truly crave.”

Her pulse raced. “That is not true.”

“It is,” he breathed. “You want control… You like to be told what to do. Admit it.”

She shook her head, but it was done weakly. “I want my own life.”

“And yet you married me.” He stepped forward quickly. She gasped, thought to hurry back, but found herself frozen to the spot. “I told you when we married that you must obey me. You heard the words, and you said nothing.”

“I…” Her voice cracked. “You said…”

“I did as I had to do; your father made sure of that.” Slowly, a hand moved to her face. She saw it coming, froze still, and his fingers lightly traced under her chin. “But now that we are wed, what I will not abide is this vague attempt to assert yourself. Not in my home. Not when you… Not when you are mine.”

She gasped. But as the Duke’s fingers stroked her under the chin, his touch was surprisingly gentle, and it sent sharp pulses through her body that were not nearly as bad as she might have thought.

There was a voice in her head screaming at her to stand up to the Duke. Is that what she wanted to do? All her life, she had been controlled, and she could not let it happen again. But the way he looked at her, the feelings it sent rushing through her body… Arabella could not deny how amazing it was… How right it felt.

He wanted to control her, an anathema to her being. But then why did it not sound so bad? Why did she suddenly want it?

What is going on with me?

The Duke smirked through the darkness when he saw the fight leave her. A deep chuckle came from his lips. And then his fingers pinched her chin, forcing her to look right at him, and she knew exactly what he was going to do. In that moment, he owned her completely, and she simply did not care.

“What…” Her voice cracked. “What are you doing?”

“What I should have done earlier,” he said.