"That is an excellent point, Sir John." The duke strode to the door and shouted for Standish. "I will contact the Foreign Office and see if they can forewarn me of any such plans. At least it would give us something to go on."
Sir John took charge of the coded message and went to find Nicholas to accompany him to the Foreign Office. Elizabeth remained in her seat, sipping slowly at her brandy until the bustle of their departure subsided. She smiled as the duke came down on his haunches and clinked his brandy glass against hers.
"Congratulations, my dear. I've not forgotten how hard you have worked and I cannot tell you how grateful I am."
Elizabeth drew in her breath and whispered, "You could kiss me, Your Grace. I would like that."
The duke set his glass down on the rug and brought his hands up to frame her face. He studied her for a long while before smoothing a lock of her unruly hair behind her ear. Elizabeth closed her eyes as his mouth hovered over hers and she breathed in his unforgettable scent.
His lips were gentle as he coaxed her to open her mouth and she responded eagerly, amazed at how quickly her body had learned to react to his. He deepened the kiss and then settled into a sensual dance of advance and retreat that brought her arms around his neck and her fingers into his thick hair. She moaned as one of his hands drifted down from her face and settled over her breast.
His fingers slipped inside her bodice and found her taut nipple and rubbed it in the same rhythm as his tongue. She arched her back in a desperate effort to draw him closer and he fitted himself between her legs, hampered only by her skirts. She could feel the heat of his hard cock pressing against her and drew her foot up the back of his buckskin-clad thigh to pull him inwards.
He groaned into her mouth and slid his hand up inside her skirts, past her garter, and toward the juncture of her thighs.
Elizabeth tore her mouth away. "Yes, oh please..."
The duke went still, his hand frozen on her thigh, his mouth a fraction away from hers. He removed his fingers and gently pushed her back into the seat.
"No...I will not oblige you." He held out his hand and grimaced at his shaking fingers. "Perhaps you don't understand what you are doing to me, Elizabeth. I haven't had a woman since you moved into my house."
Elizabeth tried to hold him but he got to his feet. She glanced at the hard bulge of his cock and then into the cool hauteur of his face.
"Don't play games with me, my dear. If you touch me again you will be on your back and I won't stop making love to you even if the Prince Regent and his whole damned cabinet waltz in."
Elizabeth opened her mouth but the duke silenced her with an abrupt gesture. "Please allow me to know what is best for you in this situation, Miss Waterstone. I, at least, have the experience to know that what we do is unwise if we wish to keep to our bargain."
"And if we don't?"
Elizabeth came out of the chair and stood in front of him, her breasts grazing his gray waistcoat, her nose practically touching his chin. She reached up and traced his narrowed lips with her fingertips. A muscle flicked in his cheek but he didn't step away.
The gong sounded in the hall, announcing luncheon, and Elizabeth heard Standish admonishing his staff to hurry. She deliberately moved closer until her whole body pressed against the duke's, from knee to shoulder. She stood on tiptoe, placed her hands on his broad shoulders, and planted a kiss on his lips before sliding back down his aroused body.
"I apologize, Your Grace I was just practicing my skills. I promise to behave for the rest of the day."
The duke was the first to step out of the embrace, which encouraged Elizabeth mightily. She watched his hasty retreat and smiled to herself. He was very close to bedding her. But she suspected that if she didn't act soon he would forgo his promise and disappear into the nearest brothel to gain some relief. Even with her inexperience she had felt the urgency behind his caresses.
All she needed to do was to continue to hound him and be available when he finally broke. She smiled as she thought of the sweetness, which lay ahead, and prayed that her oh-so-experienced suitor would soon become the victim of his own restraint.
The clock in the hallway struck one as Elizabeth gathered her courage and crossed the hall to the duke's suite of rooms. She waited outside the heavy door with its gilded panels, listening for the sound of conversation that might indicate Jacques was still with the duke. Hearing nothing, she opened the door a crack and saw the duke standing in front of the fire, a glass in his hand and a frown on his face.
He turned his head a fraction but didn't alter his stance as his gaze swept over the silken transparency of her gown and her unbound hair.
"What do you want, Elizabeth?"
Her bare feet sank into the thick crimson carpet as she took two steps toward him. She resisted the impulse to ball her hands into fists, and drew in her breath. "I've made a decision. Before I search for another protector, I want you to make love to me, Gervase. I want you to be the first man who possesses me completely."
"You have made a decision? We made a bargain. I've kept my part of it." He brought the glass to his lips and swallowed the contents down in one. "Why should you wish to change it?"
She took the glass from his hand and placed it on the mantelpiece. "Maybe you have taught me too well. You are the only man I wish to lie with."
A muscle flickered in his cheek as she put her hands onto his shoulders and her silken clad breasts brushed against his shirtfront. "I know you will not want me forever, and I promise I will not hang on your sleeve. Please allow me to change my mind. Please allow me this one night."
His hands came up and covered hers in a hard painful grip. "Why should I? Nothing else has changed. I'm still the same bastard who attempted to rape you."
"I'm the one who has changed." Elizabeth said urgently. "I was a naïve frightened girl when I made that bargain."
"And now? You think you are a sophisticate?" The duke gave a harsh laugh. "You are still an innocent, my dear, and I intend to keep you one."
Holding his gaze, she stepped back and allowed her silken robe to fall to the floor. The soft lilac silk of her nightgown clung to her body and left little to the imagination. The duke hissed a curse but seemed unable to look away.
Elizabeth moved closer until her fingers caressed his unshaven cheek. She kept her voice steady although her heart bumped and looped around her chest like a mad thing. "Well, then. If you don't wish to seduce me, perhaps you would like to play cards and let the winner have the choice."
A flash of interest crossed the duke's hard face and disappeared into the cool gray shards of his eyes. "It depends on the stakes, my dear. Do you truly think you can beat me?" He gave a soft, dismissive laugh. "I'm almost tempted to let you find out the error of your ways."
"Then why not do so?" Elizabeth said sweetly. "Unless you are afraid."
"Of you?" He smiled. "Elizabeth, you terrify me in many ways, but I don't think you are a gambler."
The duke placed a small table between the chairs in front of the fire and rearranged the candelabra to throw more light onto the tabletop. He picked up a bottle of brandy and two glasses and placed them on the hearth. Elizabeth seated herself in the right hand chair and the duke offered her the packs of piquet cards.
"Do you wish to shuffle the pack, Your Grace, or do you trust me to do it?"
The duke gave her a negligent wave as he settled his large frame into the seat opposite her and crossed his legs. "Go ahead, my dear. I doubt you have concealed any cards in your scanty attire." He deliberately leered at her. "And I can always institute a search if I fear you are cheating."
Elizabeth fought back a smile as she began to shuffle the two decks together with a competence that drew the duke's attention. "I see that you are no novice at piquet, my dear, but I must warn you that I'm considered one of the best players in London."
Elizabeth dealt out the cards and gave the duke a rather anxious smile. "I've not played for a while, Your Grace." He frowned and she rephrased her answer. "I mean, Gervase. But I've been told that I play rather well for a lady." She bent her head over the cards to stifle a grin. In truth, her brother laughingly complained that she could have made her fortune at the gaming tables if she had only been a man.
As she reached for her cards, the duke covered her hand with his. "We have not discussed the stakes."
"May I suggest a shilling a point?"
"If you wish, although I'm used to playing for higher stakes." He leaned over the side of his chair and bent to pour them both a glass of brandy. "What do you suggest the winner receives?"
"If I win, Gervase, I would like to seduce you."
"You will not win, my dear."
Elizabeth stared right back at him. "And what will you claim as your prize if you win?"
"I will expect you to bathe me for a month and promise not to disagree with me about anything for a whole week. Do you think you could manage that?"
Elizabeth snorted, picked up her cards and fanned them out in front of her face. "You obviously take me for a flat. Are you ready to play now? Or are you too afraid to lose to a woman?"
His eyes narrowed and he picked up his cards. The first rubber passed quietly, the cards favoring neither player, as they each tested the others' skill. The duke won by a very small margin and Elizabeth watched him relax and begin to drink more freely from the bottle of brandy at his elbow. She hoped he believed her an overcautious player, an impression she worked hard to cultivate.
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