Page 55 of Kathryn

“I will speak with the duchess myself. Do not send anyone to change anything until I give the order.”

“Very good, sir. The library is untouched, Your Grace,” Court added when Gerrit stood frozen in place.

He gave an abrupt nod. “Fetch me when all is settled here.”

“Of course, Your Grace.”

Gerrit turned away from the mess and then paused when he recalled what awaited him outside the nightmare room.

Court’s voice came from behind him. “I will make sure the corridor has been seen to before you return, Your Grace.”

Gerrit nodded, left the room, and then hovered in the corridor. He was tempted to take the servant stairs—a place he knew his mother would not have thought to wreak havoc by festooning the blank walls with bric-a-brac—but there were so many maids and footmen bustling about right now that he would likely get in the way.

He used the main hallways and stairs, keeping his eyes on the carpet until he reached the serene safety of the library and could breathe normally again.

A glance at the longcase clock told him it was just after ten. He had brought a good deal of correspondence with him from London and should sit down and work on it while he had the time. But his thoughts were as willful as a basket full of kittens, and he knew it would be impossible to concentrate on business matters just now.

Instead, his mind wandered to his wife’s suite of rooms, which lay roughly above his head.

Kathryn would be tired, not only from the journey, but because Gerrit had abandoned her in the care of his yammering mother.

He should allow her to rest tonight, probably for two days after that grueling journey. Maybe even longer after how vigorously he had taken her on their wedding night.

Not for the first time did Gerrit grow hard at the memory of that night and her lovely body and enthusiastic response to him.

He scowled and shifted his erect cock before crossing the room to the shadowboxes that filled one wall. It was a much larger collection than the one in his London study. Usually looking at the exquisite fossils calmed him. Not tonight. Instead, his ungovernable thoughts kept veering back to his wedding night.

Gerrit had not intended to use her like she was his mistress, but she was so beautiful that she stole not only his breath, but also his wits. And of course there was her defiant, challenging behavior and impertinent tongue, both of which brought out the beast in him and stoked his already dominant nature.

His prick throbbed at the memory of her reaction to a bit of praise and vulgar pillow talk. It had stunned him to discover that her jaded sophistication was merely a mask—albeit thick and polished—and Gerrit never would have guessed that she needed reassurance and bolstering. His new wife was a snarling, spitting alley cat during the day, but in bed she became a sweet, purring kitten after only a little petting.

Although he regretted his lack of finesse on his wedding night, he did not regret the actual acts. Gerrit refused to go to her like a burglar in the night, sliding between the sheets in the darkness and taking his release, impregnation his only goal.

Perhaps she’d prefer a swift, expedient fucking? After all, you promised her a marriage of convenience, not one of passion.

Gerrit didn’t care. Yes, he had treated her more like a mistress than an earl’s daughter, but her open and eager carnality convinced him that she’d enjoyed herself. Why should he curtail his own pleasure—and hers as well—just because they had been forced to marry?

He glanced at the clock again. It was three minutes later than the last time.

Damnation.

He banished his delectable wife from his thoughts, sat down at his desk, and pulled the stack of correspondence toward him. Work would settle his rampant thoughts. At least it always had in the past.

***

Katie had extinguished all the candles and given up on Dulverton coming to her when the connecting door opened. She studied him from beneath lowered lashes as he paused on the threshold, a monolithic black figure limned by the faint light behind him. He tilted his head to the side and she realized he was trying to discern if she was sleeping.

Katie suspected that if she remained still, he would leave.

Although she was tired, she had thought constantly of their wedding night, reliving it over and over again. She might not like him, but she wanted him physically. At least her body did.

She paused at that thought. No, that wasn’t accurate; she wanted more than just physical pleasure from him. Dulverton the man intrigued her and made her feel alive as nothing and nobody else had done for years.

“I am awake.”

He closed the door, throwing the room into complete darkness. There was a faint rustle of cloth before the edge of the mattress dipped and the blankets lifted and hot, hard flesh pressed along her right side. A hand, the skin slightly rough but warm, settled on her midriff and lightly caressed over the fine muslin of her nightgown.

Katie was so excited she could scarcely breathe as his mouth lowered over one of her breasts and he suckled her nipple through the thin material. Rather than blunt the sensation, the cloth barrier somehow enhanced her pleasure.