Page 32 of The Duke of My Desire

“Well, how was your first foray into the pleasures of the flesh?” she teased. “Was it all you hoped it would be?”

“Better,” he said. “You are an excellent tutor.”

“I had an adept student,” she said, her smile drowsy now, her eyes drifting closed. “I hope he will be ready for another lesson soon.”

“Anytime you like,” he murmured. “Anytime at all.”

As he lay beside her watching her doze, he tried not to think about how she had become such an excellent tutor. He didn’t like the thought of another man touching her, but he knew he had no right to be jealous of her past. He should be grateful for it, and for all the ways she knew how to please a man.

Ways which had made his first time better than he had ever imagined.

CHAPTER 9

Justina awoke the following morning to muted sunlight pouring in from the window and Gregory’s warm body beside hers in the bed.

He was sleeping deeply, his breathing slow and even, his face relaxed and boyishly handsome.

She smiled, resisting the urge to reach out and smooth a lock of hair from his forehead. She didn’t wish to wake him just yet. He deserved to sleep a little longer after last night’s pleasures.

Of which there had been many.

They’d made love twice yesterday, and he’d proved himself an attentive and enthusiastic lover. His inexperience had only seemed to make him more eager to please, and she couldn’t recall the last time she’d so enjoyed making love with a man.

She still couldn’t understand how he had gone so long without being with a woman. Men had needs, and in her experience, not much stood in the way of satisfying those needs. What had made him wait? And why had he chosen her to gift his first time to?

She watched him sleep, her smile affectionate as she thought of his sweet words and gentle hands, and the way he blushed when he was embarrassed. He was unlike any man she’d ever known, and she wanted to know everything that had made him who he was before they would inevitably part ways.

Her heart clenched at the thought of never seeing him again. Or, worse, meeting him in a crowded ballroom and trying to pretend they had never met, that nothing had ever happened between them.

Her eyes grew hot, her chest tight and aching, and she closed her eyes against the tumult of emotion roiling through her insides.

Dear God, what was the matter with her?

She never felt this way at the end of an affair. Never. Every lover she welcomed into her bed was well-used and appreciated, but she was never tempted to keep any of them. She always let them go without a single pang of regret.

What did it mean that she was already mourning the end of her time with Gregory?

Perhaps it meant nothing. Perhaps it was merely the effects of this unusual concoction of lust and gratitude, made all the more potent because it was new.

Whatever the reason, it had nothing to do with love. For goodness’ sake, she’d only known the duke for a few days. Of course love had nothing to do with it.

“What are you thinking about?”

Justina’s eyes popped open and she met Gregory’s sleepy gaze, a guilty flush flooding her cheeks.

“Pardon?” she asked, though she knew perfectly well what he’d said. She was buying time, trying to figure out what to say.

“I can practically hear your brain working,” he murmured, his lips tipping up in a lazy smile. “What has you looking so pensive?”

Justina would rather eat worms than admit she’d been wondering if she was falling in love with him, so she gave him a different truth instead. “I haven’t awoken with a man in my bed since my husband died,” she said. “It’s…a little strange.”

“Strange, but not bad?”

She shook her head. “No. Not bad.”

He smiled at her, soft and sweet, and Justina’s insides melted a little. She liked the way he looked at her, as if she was all he saw, all he wanted to see.

“Thank you for last night,” he murmured, reaching up to brush a lock of hair behind her ear. “I enjoyed myself immensely.”