The Other Duke (15 page)

She shook her head, but she was smiling. “You know, Rafe, I have heard told from multiple sources that you actually
like
parties.”

“I like parties with my friends. Parties where the alcohol is not watered down to nothing. Parties with laughter and genuine conversation.”

“You are so dramatic, Your Grace.”

He furrowed his brow. “Dramatic? I think not. I am stating what is an obvious difference between what I once was and what I am forced to be at present.”

“I do understand the concept of being forced into a future, Rafe. Truly. And I realize you’re still adjusting to everything that has happened in the past two weeks.”

He watched her closely. She could so easily wipe her feelings away from her face, but did she still have them burning in her heart? Hidden where she had to confront them alone?

“I think you must still be adjusting as well, Sera,” he said softly.

She turned away. “I was to marry a duke, and marry a duke, I did.”

He frowned. “I would hope I am not interchangeable with my cousin.”

She jolted, and her gaze slipped back to him. “No,” she whispered. “You are most definitely a vast improvement.” He opened his mouth to say more, but she didn’t allow that and continued, “Either way, I promise you that you will find many of the things you just described at the parties we now attend.”

He huffed out his breath, and she shook her head with a smile. “I challenge you to tell me you did not like Lord Aldridge.”

“I’ll grant you Aldridge, yes. He’s a decent fellow.”

“He’s not the only one,” Serafina insisted. “But you know that. You went to school with many of your new peers. I’m certain you didn’t despise them all.”

Rafe rolled his eyes. Damn, but she would use logic against him. “No, I admit I did not.”

She looked him up and down. “In fact, I would wager that your charisma and charm made you a leader of many of the men who later took up titles.”

“My charisma and charm, eh?” he repeated with a grin and leaned closer.

She blushed once more, and he couldn’t help but think of her arching beneath him at the height of her pleasure, the same fetching color darkening her skin.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know your strengths,” she said with a shake of her head. “And that you haven’t used them in the past to get what and
who
you want.”

He shrugged. “I suppose I have.”

“And it isn’t as if you are coming in off the streets to be duke. You have already lived your life as a man of vast wealth and reasonable power. This is only a shift in that dynamic.”

“It is just so tedious, though,” he groaned.

She met his gaze, and her one pointed look shamed him with its underlying judgment. “I suppose your life as the idle rich might have been more fun. But you could do so much good if you will only try.”

He watched her for a long moment. Although she maintained that serene expression that was a wall between them, he saw a flutter of desperation in her blue eyes.

“Doing good matters to you,” he said. A statement, not a question.

She hesitated and he could see she struggled with trusting him to say more. “It does,” she finally admitted. “I always knew it would be impossible to influence Cyril to be more than the bastard he was. If I was to do something for others, I would have to do it on my own, possibly even in secret, and with my pin money.”

“That is probably correct,” Rafe said with a scowl. “He was always a greedy ass.”

She nodded. “Earlier you asked me not to equate you with your cousin, but you must see that I don’t. I think you are so much more than him, Rafe. And I think if you dedicated yourself to this path, you could be even better.”

He sighed. “It seems you have a plan.”

Her eyes lit up at that small surrender. The expression was almost worth the pain that caused it.

“I do!” she admitted. “I want to give you a list of those I think might be the best to make friendships with at these gatherings. Men who are not idle, but involved in the betterment of those around them. Also, men of good nature who I think you will
like
if you get to know them.”

“Very well. And then?”

“We will find a cause to support,” she said with a shrug. “Also, we will need to visit your tenants. As you know, Cyril badly mismanaged and abused them. They’ll need to meet you soon to assure them that we are not of the same ilk.”

“We?” he said softly.

She blinked at his interruption and then she shook her head. “I mean you.
You
. Obviously I will assist you in any way I can, but we will soon have separate lives.”

He flinched at her blunt statement of that fact. Of course he knew that was her desire. He even fully understood why. And it should have made him happy to know that he could have such freedom in his future.

And yet it did not.

“You must also think of the future. Your children will thank you for setting their path in motion now.”

“My children,” he repeated softly. “
Our
children.”

She clenched her hands in her lap. “Yes,” she whispered.

He leaned in once more and lightly traced her hand with his thumb. She shivered at the contact, and he thought she might give in to him. She quaked a little, but then she jumped to her feet and paced away.

He watched her go, confusion mobbing him. This was the second time she had pulled away from him, and now he was beginning to wonder why she was so skittish.

“Where did you go today?” he asked as he settled back into his chair and watched her stop her pacing. Her back was ramrod straight and stiff before she turned to look at him.

“Why do you ask?”

He arched a brow at her reticence to speak to him. What was she hiding?

“Because you’re nervous,” he said, bringing the issue straight into the light. “And I want to know why. To help you, if I can.”

She shifted, and again he saw her battling about whether to tell him the truth or not. She still didn’t trust him. Would she ever?

Finally she sighed. “I went to see your Aunt Hesper, Rafe. And her rage was all but overpowering.”

Serafina didn’t know exactly what reaction she
thought
Rafe would have to her admission about seeing his aunt, but his casual shrug wasn’t it.

“Aunt Hesper has always been a dreadful old biddy,” Rafe said. “Why did you go there?”

Serafina blinked, not entirely certain she understood the question. “She asked me.”

He draped his elbows over his knees with a bark of laughter that made her jump. “Now that Cyril is dead and you are duchess, you are not a marionette on her strings. Refuse her if she asks you again, especially since she is unpleasant.”

Serafina stared at him. Rafe always did what he liked, when he wanted to do it. His wealth and lack of responsibilities had allowed him to do as he wished for a long time. And the idea that she could adopt some of his laissez-faire attitude brought a thrill through her entire body.

But he had not seen Cyril’s mother. He had not heard the venom in her tone. Serafina still shuddered when she thought of it.

“You don’t seem to be reassured,” he said, exploring her face with those all-too-seeing bright blue eyes of his.

She shook her head. “I am not. What I saw today with the dowager went beyond a woman venting her grief. It was different. She was…was…”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Was?”

She swallowed. “Enraged. Violent, even.”

That made him straighten up. “Are you afraid she might harm you?”

She jolted at the sudden concern to his tone. He had been dismissive until he asked that question, but now he was on high alert. For her.

“No,” she said. “Well, at least not first. I’m more afraid she might harm
you
.”

After all, Hesper’s vitriol had been mainly focused on the destruction of
her
family’s title by Rafe. Her eyes had glittered with rage and the way she said that Rafe should die…it hadn’t felt like an idle threat.

He smiled, his earlier tense posture returning to his normal relaxed one, but she saw something flicker in his eyes.

“Me?” He laughed. “I cannot even imagine she would attempt such a thing, Sera.”

“Then why do you look like you’re secretly pondering something?” she asked.

His eyes widened. “What would there be to ponder?”

She pursed her lips. “I don’t know exactly. There have been a few troubling things since we met, though.”

“Such as?”

He wasn’t making this easy, and she huffed out her breath.

“The horse with the shard of metal in her bridle the first day we rode together, for one. And the mysterious kitchen fire in this very house.”

He arched an incredulous brow, and she shook her head at how foolish she must seem to him. “I realize there are only two occurrences and—”

She cut herself off when he turned his face slightly.

“What is it?” she asked. “Twice you have looked
guilty
.”

He cleared his throat. “I will have to remember your ability to read me in the future.”

She folded her arms. “
Rafe
.”

He met her gaze. “I was almost hit by a carriage today.”

Serafina staggered back as her heart seemed to twist into a painful knot of terror in her chest.

“Sit down. You’re pale,” he said, rising from his own seat.

She held up her hands to ward him off. “No. I won’t sit. Rafe, why didn’t you tell me this as soon as I arrived home?”

She took an unbidden step toward him, suddenly wanting to touch him and reassure herself that he was whole, but she forced herself to stay still.

“Are you hurt?” she asked.

“No,” he said softly. “I’m fine. Serafina, I can see how you might think these things are related, but it is far more likely that they are merely badly timed coincidences than some deeper plot.”

“Despite the fact that they have all occurred in a span of less than two weeks?” she asked, even though she desperately wanted to believe him.

He frowned. “The kitchen fire was likely because my house was being closed up. My staff didn’t expect us here that morning and mistakes happen under those circumstances. As for the carriage today, it could very well have been an inexperienced driver or a foxed one who had been harangued by his employer to hurry.”

What he said did help, but she couldn’t fully shake her anxieties. “How do you explain the horse with the metal?”

He shook his head. “My stable master doesn’t know how that could have happened, I admit, but I still think it more likely to have been an accident or an equipment failure rather than a conspiracy to hurt me launched by my
aunt
, of all people.”

“You didn’t see her. She was very serious in her words and actions,” Serafina whispered, although she couldn’t help but feel more at ease with how dismissive he was at the thought.

“I promise you, Sera, she has been railing about how our family should be stricken from the earth for at least a decade. Ever since Crispin seduced Miss Genevieve Kitterich, a once famous actress, and made a splash across the gossip rags for six months.” 

Serafina raised both eyebrows. “How old was Crispin then? Eighteen?”

He smiled that beautiful, mischievous, lopsided grin. “You know what they say. Notorious Flynns. Please put your mind at ease. And take my advice—you do not ever have to see her again.”

He had been holding back, but now he crossed the room toward her, his gaze suddenly predatory despite the lazy quality to his movements. He was like a cat that had all day to play with the mouse.

She shivered at the thought despite herself.

“But I do appreciate your concern on my behalf,” he said as he reached her.

He caught her elbow and inched her forward until she leaned against his muscular frame. She could hardly breathe now—everything around them seemed to fade and the only important thing left was him. Them. This.

His smile widened as he dipped his head to capture her lips with his. Earlier she had been able to push him away when she thought of Emma’s accusation that Serafina might come to care for him, but now?

He was far too intoxicating a draw not to surrender. She did so with a muffled moan and lifted her arms around his neck to draw him even closer. He guided her toward the settee she had abandoned a few moments earlier. He lowered her back against the pillows gently and then stood to stare down at her.

“I’ll lock the door,” he said, his voice rough and low as it danced down her spine.

She stared up at him, unable to keep her eyes from going wide. “Here? Now?” she asked, hoping he would understand what she meant.

His widening grin told her he did. “Oh, my darling, there is still so much more to teach you, I can see.”

She blushed at his gentle words and stared as he crossed the room and turned the key to grant them the privacy he required. When he turned back, he began to shed his jacket, loosen his cravat, and she sat up to observe him divest himself of propriety and become the lover she had begun to crave.

Crave, but not quite touch.

So far, their encounters had been entirely driven by him. His tutelage had been powerful and wild and gentle, but he had never demanded she give him anything more than her surrender.

When he tugged his shirt free of his trousers and yanked it over his head to toss to the floor, she wanted to give him so much more. She found herself wanting to
touch
him the way he did her. Not just to make certain he wasn’t hurt by the accident he had described, but to please him.

Despite her unhappy memories of Cyril stealing what he wanted, she still had the need to gift it to this man.

He leaned over her, his bare chest now within hand’s—and mouth’s—reach. She extended her fingers and pressed a palm to the bare skin, and he hissed a sound of pleasure at her touch. He tensed as if to move closer, and she pushed him back out of reflex.

He froze immediately. “Do you not want this?” he asked, his voice strained.

She forced her gaze to flicker from his bare chest to his face, and the heat that flooded her cheeks was unstoppable.

“I do want you very much. But I—”

She cut herself off, unable to say the words. Instead, she looked at his half-naked body again and curved her flat hand to stoke her fingertips against his pectoral muscle.

He cleared his throat with difficulty. “You want to explore?”

She nodded. “I do. Does it make me a wanton in your eyes?”

His face twisted in displeasure. “It makes you human. Ripe and filled with desire. That is
nothing
to be ashamed of, Serafina.”

He shifted to sit down on the settee beside her instead of pinning her there with his superior weight. “I am yours to command,” he said softly. “I’ll submit to your desires as long as I can.”

“And when you can’t?” she asked, her gaze flickering to his.

He smiled. “I may lose control at some point and need to be inside of you. But I assure you I will give you more than fair warning that the moment is coming.”

She shivered. Now that he had given her permission to explore, she wasn’t sure what to do. She had never had carte blanche, nor had she wanted it with Cyril. He had forced and demanded the way she touched him and she had given in because the alternative was far worse.

She had never pictured herself in the situation where exploring a man’s body would be…enticing.

But it was. She shoved the past aside, hid it as deep as she could manage and focused her attention back to Rafe. He was what mattered now. What she wanted in this charged moment.

She angled herself on the settee to face him, leaning in until his body heat wended its way around her, seeped into her. She saw a few bruises that she hadn’t noticed when he was standing. Purple marred his left arm and side.

“Rafe—”

He shook his head. “I promise you, I’m fine. Though if you wish to verify that statement, I give you permission, Doctor Serafina.”

She smiled at his teasing, but her hand shook as she reached out to press it, once again, to his bare chest. She felt his muscles tense as her fingers glided over his flesh, watched his cheeks suck in as he took a sharp breath.

“Why is your skin so tanned?” she whispered as she traced the lines of each defined ridge along his chest and stomach.

His eyes went wide at the question, but he quickly smiled. “At my estate in Sussex, I do what I like. Including ride and work outside without the confines of a shirt.” His smile broadened. “And I also take the occasional naked dip in my lake. Which leads to a bit of color on a man’s skin when the weather allows for sun.”

Serafina’s mouth dropped open in shock at that admission.

“I—you—”

He laughed, revealing such straight white teeth, his eyes lighting up with life and mirth. He had never been so utterly attractive, and she actually jolted with how much she wanted to lean into him, weave into him…never let him go. It was as if he offered her escape from the confines of her past, that with him she could find a way to be something so much more than what she’d been forced to be so far.

But if she stayed, she feared she might come to care for him. That was a terrifying notion for so many reasons.

“You look as though I’ve told you I own an elephant,” he said, dragging her from her troubling thoughts.

She shook her head. “I feel I would be less surprised by that admission now. I’ve just never known a person who was so utterly free as you have been.”

He shrugged, but his bright eyes continued to hold hers mercilessly. “Would you like to hear about it? Hear about my past?”

She hesitated. She had shared her own secrets, in part because of necessity. But if he told her his, would that bind them further? Complicate a relationship that was already feeling more and more complicated each day?

Perhaps, but she found herself wanting the answers anyway.

“Yes,” she whispered.

He leaned in until their faces were but inches apart. “I will tell you everything you want to know. But only if you keep touching me. I cannot have you distracted from what you so desired.”