Her Willful White: Dark Duke’s Legacy Book 2

by Andresen, Tammy

  She tried to pull away, retreat to his family, but he held firm. “Dez,” she said softly, her eyes crinkling in question.

  He leaned forward, whispering in her ear. “Today is the day we take control of this game of cat and mouse.”

  Her heart stalled in her chest and she searched the room until her gaze found Le Serpent, who was staring back at her with hard eyes.

  Her mouth dropped open. Dez had done all of this on purpose. Brought her out to the center of the floor. Held her here. “Why?”

  “Why take control? I think it’s obvious.”

  She shook her head. “I mean, why bait them like this?”

  “We’re going to marry,” he whispered as the music began again. A quadrille. “I’m sending them a clear statement that I’m foiling their plans. All of their plans.”

  She shook her head. He wanted to marry her to foil their plans? Her stomach lurched as she looked away. While her affection for Dez was growing by the day, and marriage to him sounded…wonderful, she couldn’t square spending the rest of his life married to him in order to get back at Le Serpent. As much as she wanted justice, Dez himself had lectured her about making choices for her future and not because of the past.

  He spun her about, and she looked up into his eyes. “We’re not.”

  “Not what?”

  “Getting married,” she said, biting at her lip. “You don’t wish to marry.”

  “I’ve changed my mind.”

  “And I don’t wish to marry a man who only wants me for revenge.”

  His jaw hardened. “That isn’t what I said.”

  “It’s what you meant.”

  He drew in a long breath. “After this dance, I’m going to return you to your uncle, cry a megrim and go straight to bed. I’ll knock on your door in exactly one hour. Make sure you’ve cleared the room before that.”

  She opened her mouth to answer and then closed it again. She shouldn’t. It was one thing to allow him in her room when he was saving her life, another to stay at his home while chaperoned. But this…this was cause for ruination. If caught, there’d be no choice but to wed.

  Still. She was tempted.

  So very tempted.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Dez scaled the house and crossed the balconies, noting that the curtain was drawn over Fleur’s window. Good.

  Testing the door, he found it locked. Shuffling the satchel, he carried, higher on his shoulder, he tapped lightly on the glass.

  The curtain fluttered and then the lock clicked open as the door swung open.

  “Fleur,” he said as she slipped into his arms. He dropped the satchel and then reached behind him to close the door once again. “Lock it,” he murmured just before her lips met his.

  It was a searing kiss, despite only lasting a moment or two. But she stepped out of his grasp again and locked the door behind him. “What’s in the sack?”

  He grinned as he hooked her waist and pulled her close. “Clothes for tomorrow.”

  “I bed your pardon?”

  That only made his grin spread wider. “I can’t depend on leaving tonight and I can’t arrive to my meeting with your uncle tomorrow rumpled.”

  “Rumpled?” she gasped as her hands pressed to his chest. Was she trying to push him away?

  “Well…” he said long and slow. “You might wish for me to stay to make certain you’re safe, and I wouldn’t want to disappoint a lady.”

  Her arms relaxed a bit. “Stay? Dez…you’ve lost your faculties.”

  “I beg to differ.” He slid his hand down her spine. She wore a dressing gown, her hair in a lose braid. “And I’m fairly certain you agree. You’ve changed for bed.”

  She huffed a short breath. “Mary would suspect something if I sent her off while still in my ball gown.”

  He chuckled. “True. Though I would have liked to have helped remove that gown.” Memories of her ample cleavage danced in his head. “It was splendid.”

  She turned away and, even in the dim light of the candles, he could see her blush. He laughed again. “Now. As much as I’d like to kiss you. I think we have some things to discuss.”

  “What sort of things?” she asked, her hands slipping about his waist.

  “The past…specifically mine. And the future.”

  Her light laugh tickled along his skin. “We’d better get started then. That’s a great deal to cover.”

  He smiled at that. “It is.”

  “Should we start at the beginning?”

  “The beginning is difficult to pinpoint, but I’ll try.” He swallowed. “I think it starts with my mother’s death when I was ten.”

  She stilled against him.

  “She was a wonderful woman. She softened even my father in ways I didn’t understand until later, and she shielded us from so many of his rough edges. You know…now that I think on it, I’ve always tried to be like her for Justice, Sayden and Millie. They didn’t get to know her like I did, and I wanted to recreate that for them.”

  She pressed her hands tighter to his back. “That was a wonderfully warm thing to do.”

  He shook his head. “It was difficult. My father…after my mother died, he sunk into religion, but he believed more in punishment of sin than in the forgiveness. We were beaten for even small transgressions, and he would teach us cruel lessons to try and make us stronger. One time he cleaned my chamber out of every piece of furniture, including my bed, and left me no wood for a fire and no blankets.”

  She gasped.

  “It gets worse. Ben gave me his some of his bedding. Do you know what my father did then? He took all Ben’s too. Gave it to me.” He swallowed down the acid that rose in his throat. “Said we were working against him. Against the dukedom.”

  Dez stared into the fire.

  Fleur’s hands spread out on his back. “That’s terrible.”

  He’d barely scratched the surface. “Try to understand. Every act of love was punished. To make us stronger. Free of sin.”

  She nodded, dropping her cheek onto his shoulder.

  “I thought I wouldn’t marry because I was afraid to open myself up to another person.”

  She choked then. “Oh, Dez. That’s terrible.”

  He looked at her then. Her blue eyes gazed up at him, her neck tilted and open to him. He dropped his head, placing a light kiss on the column of her neck. “I’m telling you all this so you understand.” This was the difficult part, and he hesitated. With startling clarity, he realized the depth of the feelings he had for her. Was he in love? Quite possibly. Did that mean he could say the words? He wasn’t certain. “If you accept my hand, I’ll try to give you all of me.”

  She stilled against him. “We’re discussing the future now, aren’t we?”

  “We are.” He thought he should likely lift his head and look into her eyes, but her sweet skin was like silk under his lips. “Ben says you make me a kinder, gentler person. That you’re very good for me.”

  One of her hands slid to his front, skimming up his chest. “He did, did he?”

  “He did. And I’m inclined to agree.”

  “You are?” He leaned back then and straightened to look at her.

  “I am,” he cupped her cheek then. “I’d like you to be my wife, Fleur. Not because of our investigation but because…” It was on the tip of his tongue to confess his love, but he swallowed the words back down. “You make me want to be better. To live better…to…”

  But his words were cut off as she lifted up on tiptoe and pressed her mouth to his.

  * * *

  Fleur had heard enough.

  Hence the kissing him into silence.

  Had he declared his undying love? No.

  Though to be completely fair, she hadn’t either. But she felt the emotion. Despite never having experienced it before, this need to be near him and the well-being that surrounded her whenever she was suddenly made sense. Her overwhelming desire for him could be summed up in one simple word. Love.

  Still, th
e feeling was so new for her, she wasn’t entirely ready to share it with him. What if he didn’t love her in return? What if he did but, thanks to his past, he wasn’t ready to share such depth of feeling?

  But he’d told her she made him better and he wanted a future with her. And for now, that was enough.

  She pulled back, just an inch. “My answer is yes.”

  “Pardon?” He looked down at her then, his gaze dark and penetrating in a way that stole her breath.

  “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

  A smile ghosted across his lips before he leaned in and kissed her again, his tongue dipping in her mouth to taste her even as he stole her breath.

  She lost all sense of time as the kiss went on and on. And then his arms wrapped under her behind. He lifted and carried her across the room.

  “Fleur,” he whispered. “I’m going to get your uncle’s permission because I want to make certain our match is accepted when we return.”

  The word return made her brow crinkle, and she lifted her head, blinking. He still held her in his arms and her feet dangled several inches off the floor. “Return from where?”

  “I have several ships, you see,” he said as he craned up to kiss her again. “And I don’t want to leave you with your uncle unprotected. I thought we might take a gander to Scotland and marry posthaste.”

  Her lips parted as she stared down at him. “A gander? To Scotland? You’re mad.”

  He grinned again. “For you.”

  “Oh.” That did sound a great deal lovelier. And he did have a point. She’d be far safer living with the Whites, and investigation would get easier, as well. But what about after? “Where do you think we’ll live? After all this business with spies and war is done?”

  “Might happen sooner than you think and, honestly, I thought you’d want to return to France and your vineyard.” Then he kissed her again. “I’d like to formerly apply for the contract for shipping your wine.”

  She giggled. “You’ve thought of everything.” And honestly, she loved the plan.

  “I have.” His smile slipped as his eyes grew darker. “Including what you might look like without that dressing gown.”

  Her brows lifted. “We’re not married yet.”

  He dropped her down a few inches, until their mouths were exactly in line. Then he kissed her long and slow with a steaming passion that made her pulse race wildly. “Let me see if I can’t convince you.”

  And then he lay her on the bed his weight coming on top of hers. Nothing had prepared her for the comfort and thrill his body on top of hers would bring.

  Her legs naturally parted to cradle him and despite the layers of clothes, the pressure his hard shaft naturally placed on her apex sent a shiver of pleasure shivering through her body. She tightened her grip on him even as he rocked against her, sending another shiver radiating out from between her legs. “Dez,” she gasped against his mouth.

  He stilled and then lifted off her.

  She made to protest. What she’d just felt had been…magical.

  But her words died on her lips as he began to shed his clothing. Fleur reached for the belt of the dressing gown, yanking the heavy fabric off and discarding it on the floor as he pulled his shirt over his head, revealing the rock-hard contours of his abdomen. “Oh,” she breathed, her hand lifting toward where he stood between her knees.

  His answer was to lean over her, supporting himself with a hand on either side of her body as she explored his chest. His skin was rough, his hair coarse, but heat radiated off him and as she traced the breadth of his shoulders, her lower leg twined around his. “I belong here.”

  He slowly lowered himself until his lips met hers. “It is your uncle’s house.”

  She smiled, kissing him again. “I meant here with you. Together like this.”

  One of his hands glided down her body, over her hip and all the way to her knee where he gathered the hem of her nightshift. Slowly, he skimmed the fabric up her thigh. “You do belong here, Fleur. You belong with me.”

  And then his fingers shifted, moving over her leg tickling her thigh until they lightly brushed the curls at her apex.

  The hard press of his flesh to the spot had filled her with a throbbing ache, but this gentle, more direct brush made her spasm in pleasure. She cried out wanting more, wanting all he could give, more of that intense sensation sweeping through her.

  And then he touched her again, a firmer press down her seam. Her body arched against him as he did it again and then again. Shivers of pleasure raced along her skin, and she clutched at his back as he slid a finger into her tight channel, the heal of his hand coming to her bud of pleasure.

  It was too much, and with a keening cry, she came undone, shattering under his hand. Fleur sagged into the mattress even as he stood again. This time, he shucked off his boots and reached for his breeches. His hand stilled as he looked back at her.

  That’s when Fleur realized, she lay with her nightshift about her waist, her legs open to him, her body limp on the bed.

  Reaching for the hem, she gave it a tug down, trying to cover herself. But his hand covered hers. “Fleur, I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Dez wanted to see all of her. He wished to worship every inch of her body with his hands and his lips. He’d like to lose himself in her softness.

  But he’d just had his finger in her channel, and it had been…tight. She was a slender woman, and he was rather...large. She’d need time and patience and he’d give her both. Though, that thought only made his cock throb. Damn, but he wanted this woman.

  She let go of the hem and laced her fingers with his. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “I want to see all of you,” she whispered. “I think you’re beautiful, too.”

  His teeth clenched, his jaw turning to stone. There was only so much a man could take. “I think it best I leave the breeches on.”

  Her answer was to slide away from him and then pull herself up so she was kneeling on the bed.

  With a single pull, the fabric of her night rail went sailing over her head. He drank in the sight of her from her round breasts with small pale pink nipples to the flat expanse of her stomach to the swell of her hips. “Fleur.” His voice sounded rough, even to his own ears.

  “Now you,” she said by way of answer.

  He hesitated for another moment. “But we’re not married yet.”

  She grinned at him. “Using my own words against me.”

  He returned the smile. “Perhaps.” And then he started to tug off his boots. He had to sit to accomplish the task and when her naked torso pressed to his bare back, his eyes squeezed shut.

  When his second boot slid off, he reached behind his back pulling her around and settling her naked in his lap. “You’re an imp, love.”

  “And you’re still in your breeches.”

  He slowly laid back taking her with him. “I don’t want to frighten you.”

  “Frighten me?” she lifted a brow as her hand slid down to the front of his falls, her palm sliding down the length of his shaft.

  He sucked in his breath, his teeth gnashing.

  “Did it hurt?” she asked, her hand stilling.

  By way of answer, he placed his hand over hers and slid her palm down his manhood again.

  She kissed the corner of his mouth and then whispered in his ear. “When you touched me, it felt even better with no cloth between us.”

  “You’re not an imp, you’re a minx.” He pushed out but secretly, the words made him lighter. She wanted to touch him as much as he’d wanted to her. And that mattered.

  His breeches only made it to his thighs before her hand skimmed down his manhood again.

  He didn’t bother pulling them any further down as she explored his length, the head of his cock, his softer sack underneath. “You’re so different.”

  “True.” He turned his head to look at her face. She’d settled next to him, her front pressing to h
is side. Unable to help himself, he captured her lips with his. “We’re meant to be different. Complementary.”

  But as she slid her hand up and down his shaft, her look grew further away as she stared at the wall. “I suppose that’s true.”

  Her hand slipped from his staff, resting on his leg. She couldn’t hide the worry that puckered her brow. “Do you think I’ll be able to run the vineyard when the time comes? I followed my father around incessantly. I know all there is to know about grapes, but business…”

  He held her hand, stilling her movements. “Fleur, I’ve every faith in you, but know I’ll be there to help.”

  She smiled up at him then, sliding her hand down his cock again, slow and deliberate in a way that made tension tingle deep from his balls. “I know you will. We’ll be a team.”

  “We will.”

  He thrust his hips against her hand. “Just like we’re a team now.”

  His muscles grew taut, and he placed a hand over hers, helping her to go faster. “Yes.”

  “Good.” She kissed the spot just under his ear, her breast sliding against his chest.

  He had one arm wrapped about her back and he pressed her tighter to his side as he buried his nose in her hair.

  She was right. They belonged together, intertwined like this. That was his last thought as he erupted with a groan of pleasure.

  Tomorrow, they’d leave for Scotland and get a jump on the men who’d been trying to hurt them, those who had killed her father.

  But more importantly, tomorrow would begin the rest of their lives. Together.

  * * *

  Fleur woke to the sound of birds. Lifting her head, her hand reached out to the spot next to her that Dez had occupied, but it was empty. She curled her fingers into the still warm sheets. How long had he been gone?

  “Miss me?”

  She turned to other side just as he sat next to her on the bed, leaning down and brushing her forehead with his lips. Her fingers brushed his chin. “For a moment, I thought you’d left.”

  “Without saying goodbye?” He smiled against her forehead. “Pack a trunk for yourself and Mary this morning while you wait.”