Devil Take the Duke (Lords of the Night Book 1)

by Sandra Sookoo

  She was beautiful—there was no other way to explain it. With her eyes closed, she swayed slightly to the music she created—that she felt and wore like a gilded, shimmering garment. Essentially, Alice spoke with the notes, the melody, the moving passages, and the stories those notes told went straight to his heart.

  His mother had loved music, but Alice embodied it. In her, the passages, the melodies became a living, breathing entity, and if he wasn’t careful she’d float right out of his life to return home to Olympus where the other Muses dwelled, for she was no longer part of this world.

  Donovan watched her, entranced, as the music throbbed through his body, pushing through every nerve ending until he breathed in the magical notes and it gave him new life. While playing, she imparted a piece of herself, gave that white, shining bit into his keeping whether she was aware of it or not. And it stunned him, not knowing what to do with it, for no one had ever offered such a gift before.

  He sat captivated through two additional songs, and then he launched to his feet, had to be with her, needed to touch her. “Alice.” His feet didn’t move fast enough, and he stumbled to the stage, lurched up the few steps of the rise. “Dear God, you are amazing.” A certain reverence filled his voice as he gently maneuvered the harp from her. Then he took her hands and pulled his wife to her feet, tugged her into his arms and brought his mouth crashing down on hers.

  They communed without words. There was no need. While she twined her hands around his neck, her magical fingers furrowing through his hair, he drank from her as if she held the last drop of water on Earth and he wanted it. So thoroughly did he kiss her that they remained locked together, pressed into each other, fitting completely until they were seamless in perfection. She filled the spaces in him that were empty and he borrowed from her strength, gave her the same until he hoped she felt as whole as he did in that moment.

  He might not love her, but in this kiss, after hearing the exquisite music she’d created, he shared something with her he couldn’t ignore. No longer was he the same man who’d entered the room earlier. A tiny shift had occurred and he refused to contemplate what that might mean for his future. For now, he couldn’t have enough of the woman in his arms.

  He broke the kiss to trail his lips along the underside of her jaw. When she moaned, he held her close, framed her face with his hands while she clutched at his arms, his shoulders, anywhere she could find purchase. “Ah, Alice, you never cease to surprise me.” Donovan rested his forehead against hers. When she closed her eyes, he did the same, content to inhale when she exhaled, exchanging the give and take of air, quite literally breathing her in, then when she stirred, he kissed her again, more intensely, chasing her tongue with his, seeking, asking, claiming her until they both panted with need.

  “That is an encouraging sign,” she responded, her words breathless and she inclined her chin as he dragged his lips down the side of her throat.

  “Quite so.” Donovan traced the bodice of her gown with his lips, licked the satiny skin. Then he pulled away from her, and when she uttered a protest, he grinned, vaulted off the stage, only to turn, grip her hips and bring her down to him. At her slight squeak, he chuckled. Damn, but he adored the sounds she made. “So very encouraging,” he murmured against her lips as he claimed them again in a searing kiss that broke the shackles on his control.

  He urged her backward, bent her over his arm in an effort to kiss her so deep that he might reach her soul, and he laid her down upon the polished wood of the stage, her legs dangling, his gaze connecting with hers. In the silver-gray depths of her eyes, the same desire glimmered that rode him and he kissed her again. Alice fisted one hand in his shirt. The other she slipped to his nape and encouraged him closer.

  “I need you, Donovan,” she whispered, and the words swept away his hesitation.

  Again, he didn’t answer with words; he didn’t have to. In this moment, there was complete understanding between them. As if he couldn’t bear a parting from her lips, he kissed her, made love to her mouth, hinted at what was to come, and slowly, he drew her skirts upward until the fabric bunched at her waist.

  His member pulsed with urgency. This joining would go swiftly, but he didn’t care. He fumbled with the buttons at the front of his trousers, shoved the panel out of the way and then he gripped her hips, fitting his tip to her ready opening.

  “Wrap your legs about my waist, love.” He could scarcely force out the words from the tightness of his throat.

  A groan escaped him when she followed his command, and he couldn’t hold back any longer. Donovan thrust into her snug passage, plunged into her honeyed heat, and for the first time in his adult life, tears pricked the backs of his eyes, for she felt so bloody wonderful around him, as if he was where he was supposed to be all along.

  Alice gasped. She squirmed beneath him as he angled along her body, leaning over her for maximum friction. With every movement, hot sensation raced up his member and settled into his stones. She smiled, looking directly at him, and he fell all the harder into the glory that was his wife.

  He closed his eyes to block out the adoration in her expression; it was too damning, too guilt inducing, but he wouldn’t give up this moment with her. Over and over he stroked into her body, rocking them both in a rhythm as old as time. Deeper and deeper he drove, wanting to touch all of her. Soon, the urgency riding him changed into blinding need. Donovan dug his fingers into her hips, grunting, hoping that he left marks in her skin—his marks—and he drove into her, wishing to forget what he was, what he’d done, what he still had to do…

  Her moans blended with his, and all too soon she shattered in his hold. His name, sweetly uttered upon her lips and keening through the room on the wings of the same notes she’d played earlier, burrowed straight to his soul. As bliss claimed her and she contracted around him, he pushed through the waves that beckoned, grabbed at him, called his name until he, too, surrendered to release and let the heated tide consume him.

  As his pulse roared in his ears and sweat plastered his shirt to his back, Donovan thrust once more in an effort to prolong the pure sensations, but he was spent and he collapsed upon her chest, wrapping his arms around her. Alice’s heartbeat raced wildly beneath his ear, her breath skated along his cheek and brought him back to Earth. Oh, to have it always like this between them… but how could it when the whole of their life together was based on his lies?

  Cold loathing crept in to steal the temporary post-coital euphoria. Biting back a string of vulgarity, Donovan pulled out and away from her body. Only then did he realize he’d been so lost in the moment, in her, that he hadn’t attended to the act as closely as he should—he’d loosed his seed inside her. Bloody hell. He did up the buttons on his trousers and then sank to the floor, his back against the wall of the stage. Damnation, he was a prick, and she didn’t deserve him. Not at all. Yet here they were, both careening down a path from where there was no return. And what if the coupling left her with child?

  “Are you well?” Alice righted herself. Seconds later, with the faint scent of apricots stirring in the air, she settled onto the floor beside him. “Tell me what troubles you.”

  How could she know? But then, she’d always possessed a sixth sense when it came to him. “I apologize for the distraction. Much weighs upon my mind.”

  “The curse.”

  “Yes.” The word sounded strangled even to his own ears.

  “Perhaps we should talk.” Alice slipped her arms around him and laid her head on his chest as she snuggled into his side. “What are you dearest hopes for your life? A man must have dreams, after all, for what is the purpose of living without them?”

  “Ah, dreams.” Her touch, her warmth, her trusting presence with him in the darkened room brought a modicum of comfort. Donovan pulled her into his lap, cradling her in his arms, his cheek against her silky hair, her skirts flowing around them. It was odd, this intimate sharing, cuddling after release had been achieved. With the women before Alice, he either le
ft their residences shortly after, or they left his, for before, there’d been no intimacy in those connections. Bizarre, but this was somehow… addicting. “For the whole of my life, I have focused on being free from the curse.”

  “But?” She played with a button on his evening jacket. “There is a question?”

  “I am struggling morally with the decision.” He drew in a deep breath and let it ease out. “Once the curse is gone, so will be my wolf, and how can I live with myself for the rest of my life knowing that I essentially killed a living being for the sake of having a life of my own?”

  “While I cannot pretend to understand what such a thing must be like for you, ask yourself this. Does the beast enhance your life? Does he help you better the world around you?”

  “I’m not certain.” Surely he hadn’t used the power of his wolf to do anything for anyone. It was all a selfish intent.

  “Ask yourself why you wish to be free of him then.”

  Finally, his beast roused from the stupor that had calmed him. Don’t you like being with me, human?

  Botheration. Donovan ignored the wolf. “It is a weighty problem to contemplate.” No matter what decision he made, someone would hate him, and he would despise himself more.

  Alice pulled slightly away in order to peer into his eyes. The concern clouding hers nearly had him undone. “Are you making a difference?” When he remained silent, already knowing the answer, she continued. “Wanting to help others in this world, but having no power or voice to do that is dismal at best. That is what I struggled with before I married you. However, I plan to do all that I can with my new title.”

  “You are more noble than I.” He attempted to keep bitterness from his voice.

  “No, but perhaps I am more resourceful, for I know what it’s like to struggle. Wielding massive amounts of influence throughout society, having the reach you do, you are able to affect change, and that is staggering. Discover what you can do instead of despairing on what you cannot because of what you feel holds you back or makes you different.”

  “But with the wolf, I am unable to—”

  “Hush.” She laid her fingertips over his lips. “Discover your place in the world, my lord, and find what makes you happy, for life is hard enough if you are your own worst enemy.” With a tiny sigh, she settled against his chest. “Despite your affliction, you have great power. You are a duke. Countless peers look up to you. Don’t squander your potential on empty pursuits of pleasure.”

  Silence fell over them as Donovan contemplated her words. There was much soul-searching to do before the full moon arrived. In a rare moment of honesty, he said, “I feel I’ve started to make a difference by marrying you.” Shock moved through his chest. Yes, it was true. “You have helped me change my mindset on a few subjects. And I… I rather like it.” What was happening to him?

  “How wonderful.” Alice moved slightly to look into his eyes. Her smile could have brightened the whole of London-town, and that gesture echoed deep in his heart, where he captured that light to use later when he was without hope—without her. As before when he’d made love to her, something passed between them, and their relationship shifted again.

  “It is, quite,” he whispered with a grin of his own. He encouraged her head down upon his shoulder once more and he held her tighter.

  Perhaps there was a chance for him after the full moon. Mayhap she would stay. Did he want her to? His whole life would transform, and he wasn’t certain he wished it to, for it would mean a pain more exacting than going through the shift into the wolf.

  Yet without change, there was no growth. A conundrum of a different kind indeed.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  September 29, 1815

  Life kept Alice busy as the ball—and the full moon—approached.

  Yesterday, the duke spent his day away from the house as business occupied his attention. That night before dinner, he disappeared to parts unknown, and she suspected he ran as the wolf, though he didn’t confirm it when she’d asked at breakfast this morning.

  Was that a part of life she’d need to come to terms with if the curse didn’t break? It definitely needed consideration. Married to a man who became a beast, regularly missed meals for the wide-open spaces and chasing down livestock, delighted in the times they came together carnally yet didn’t know exactly what occurred when he was the wolf. Wife to a man whose devotion was split. If he’d ever come to care for her, would that make a difference?

  That afternoon, Alice drooped with fatigue and rested in the family’s private parlor, recovering from the rigors of a seventh fitting for her ball gown in two days. Elizabeth occupied a settee across from hers with a sheaf of papers in her hand.

  “Your lady’s maid is meeting with the housekeeper as we speak. If she passes muster, she will be installed and available for your use this evening.”

  Alice nodded. “I look forward to it.” The young woman, not much older than twenty, had come recommended from the Mayfair household of a friend of Elizabeth’s. Her name was Mary, and she was a bright, energetic person who had infinite patience and didn’t treat Alice differently due to her vision impairment. What was more, Mary’s younger brother suffered from blindness of his own, a different sort than Alice’s. “She and I will get on well together.”

  “I feel that, too.” Elizabeth referred to another paper. “Regarding the ball, here is a list of things outstanding that you’ll need to look over and either approve or reject.” She began reading out various subjects, and Alice’s mind wandered.

  Certain aspects of being a duchess overwhelmed her. How did other women manage it? A niggle of cold fear threaded through her insides. What would become of her life once Elizabeth relinquished the organization of tasks to her? Eventually, her sister-in-law would want to follow her own dreams. Alice forced a swallow into her tight throat. Of course, there was every possibility that once her husband was free of the curse after the full moon, he’d have no more use for her anyway…

  A prickle of tears stung her eyes. She’d thought that after what they shared in the music room, things would have been different, that he might have come to care for her above and beyond his affliction.

  Why do I continue to hope for things that never come to pass?

  “Leave off with badgering my wife, if you please, Elizabeth.”

  Alice blinked away the wont to cry as Donovan came into the room. Though he was but a blob in her white-fuzzed vision, she straightened her spine while silly little trembles of excitement bounced through her. “What are you doing here?”

  “I live here.” He came closer, now a blob of bottle green from his jacket. A tan blob made its presence known in the form of his breeches.

  “No, I mean… I presumed you’d have business today that demanded your time.”

  He took her hand and gently tugged her into a standing position. “I have managed to clear my schedule.” The duke brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. “I wish to take you driving. In my open carriage since the afternoon is lovely, and it is the fashionable hour.”

  “That is a splendid idea, Donovan,” Elizabeth enthused. “I’ve hoped you’d circulate through society on a more regular basis now that you’re married. It will go a long way into removing the stigma attached to your title.”

  He grunted. “I’m not sure anything can help in that quarter. However, I’m willing to enter the nest of vipers for Alice’s behalf. It’s not her fault she married a cursed lord.”

  “Why would you do this now?” She couldn’t help narrowing her eyes. “This is suspect—you have nothing to gain except perhaps a more positive reputation.” So again, he would use her to further his own agenda. The offer of a drive had nothing to do with romance.

  Both he and Elizabeth laughed. His sister said, “It seems she’s not one to let you use flattery or charm any longer to coerce her.”

  “Why would I do this?” He tightened his hold on her hand. “Honestly, I wish to show you off to the city. I cannot w
ait until the ball for London to see my beautiful bride.” No trace of dissembling rang in his voice.

  Despite knowing he only did or said such things to further solidify her affections for the purposes of the curse, her heart trembled. His spicy, citrus scent worked to draw her into his web. “I should at least change clothes.” She simply wasn’t ready for London society, however informal the meeting.

  “Pish posh, my dear.” Donovan lifted her arm and gave her a twirl that set the skirts of her pink day dress flaring. The tails of the white satin ribbon fluttered. “You will steal all the men’s hearts and make the women green with jealousy just as you are.”

  Elizabeth tittered. She laid her folio aside. “It’s rare my brother is so eloquent or even teasing when he has nothing to gain. Best take advantage of this, Alice.”

  For the moment, her worries fled. “I think he’s adorable.” His words and attention might be more of the same to keep her happy and content so she’d break the curse for him, and she would allow herself the dream that he might change. She hated having to second-guess every aspect of their life together, but he seemed so earnest and genuine…

  “See, Elizabeth, I’m adorable,” he joked. “You should take notes. I’m not as frustrating or hopeless as you thought.”

  His sister uttered an unladylike snort. “Oh, but you are, brother. Make no mistake.” There was a smile in her voice.

  Alice loved the interaction between them. “Will you accompany us, Elizabeth?”

  “Oh, no. I want no part of Donovan’s spectacle, for he’ll no doubt do up the romance while he has you on display. It’ll be quite sickening, mark my words.” She laughed. “I’ll see to a few of these last-minute tasks so you won’t need to.”

  “Thank you.” Her voice wavered. “All of these things threaten to pull me under and drown me. I don’t know where I’d be without your help.”

  Donovan slipped an arm about her waist. “One might become a duchess overnight, but one doesn’t learn how to actually be one until time has passed.” He fit his lips to her ear. “You are doing splendidly.”