A Duke's Duty (The Duke's Club Book 2)

by G. L. Snodgrass

  He bit his tongue to stop from demanding the name of the boy. Not yet.

  “The boy found me. I don’t know how. Perhaps … It doesn’t matter, but he climbed the ladder. I still remember the sound of him. Each rung. One at a time. I remember everything. The sparrows singing out in the apple tree. The smell of fresh hay and horses. The taste of fear in my mouth. Everything.”

  He forced himself to take a calming breath. If he moved, she might never finish it.

  “When he stepped up into the loft, I will never forget the look in his eyes. It was an animal’s look. Cold. You know?”

  He nodded.

  Abigail took a deep breath. “I don’t remember what happened. That part is blanked out. I remember backing up as he advanced. The next I remember is waking up in agonizing pain in my own bed surrounded by our doctor and my mother looking terrified.”

  “I can imagine, the loss of a child is every mother’s worst nightmare,” he said.

  The silence grew between them. She was reliving that day he realized.

  “What happened to the boy?” he asked hoping to help her end the bad memories.

  She gasped and twisted to look at him, “I never told anyone. I never told that story to anyone.”

  His brow furrowed in confusion. “Why not?”

  The young woman paused for a moment as she gathered herself. “At first, I thought it was my fault. I must have done something to make him act that way. Then, when I finally thought it through. Really, months later when the pain had subsided enough. I realized there was nothing to tell. He could merely say that he had only wanted to talk. What could I say?”

  Jack ground his teeth. “What is his name?” he asked through gritted teeth.

  She glanced over at him then shook her head. “No,” she said.

  “Why not.”

  She studied him for a moment then smiled gently. “Because I fear you will kill him and I’ll never get you married off. The mothers don’t like their daughters marrying killers. It tarnishes their reputation. And makes parties rather bothersome. You have to be careful who you invite. They might be related to the deceased.”

  He hesitated. It was nice that she understood him so well. It was also nice that she could make light of it now. But deep down, he knew that he would spend his life wanting the name. Yet, he must be careful. She had revealed her deepest secret. He couldn’t push her or she would never open herself up again. No, he would bide his time. It would make this scoundrel’s death all that sweeter.

  “We need to come about,” she said as she looked forward, obviously wanting to change the subject.

  “No,” he said as he stood up and loosened the boom to spill the wind from the sail. The boat settled onto an even keel. “We’re going to anchor for a bit. Cook has prepared us lunch. Then we will have to head back if we are to catch the tide.”

  As he made his way forward to let go the anchor, he pushed the anger away. He would deal with the matter of her attacker at a later date. In the meantime, his goal was to make Abigail’s day as special as possible. To return that happy smile to her face and help her forget her troubles.

  Letting the anchor go, he let it play out then tied it off. He watched for a moment as the boat swung around. Yes, it was holding.

  They were out of the way here. They should be fine until the tide turned.

  “You hungry?” he asked as he held open the door to the cabin.

  She smiled up at him. God, she is so beautiful, he realized. Letting go of the tiller, she reached and used the door to steady herself as she stepped down the two stairs into the cabin.

  He sighed heavily as he scanned the area. There was no danger, he told himself. But habits were hard to break. When he followed her down into the cabin, Abigail had already removed his jacket, retrieved the hamper and was looking for a place to put it.

  .o0o.

  Abigail wondered if her heart would ever return to normal. Surely, he could hear it beating. The cabin was tiny and Jack’s wide shoulders and broad chest seemed to make it feel even smaller.

  “Here,” he said as he reached around her to lower a small table built into the boat’s side. A wave of salty sandalwood washed over her making her sigh internally. An aroma she would never forget. His. All Jack.

  He nodded for her to place the hamper on the table. As she shifted, the boat rocked unexpectedly. Without thinking she reached for him. His two strong hands gripped her waist, steadying her. A thrill traveled through her. Such strong hands. A man’s hands, she thought as her mind began to wander. God, how she wished he would wrap his arms around her and never let go.

  For a brief moment, they stood there, two people. A man and a woman in a small space, staring into each other’s eyes. Her heartfelt as if it would melt. Dissolve into a puddle.

  He stared at her with a knowing look. As if he were seeing something he wanted. Desperately needed. Once again, she realized just how in love she was with this man.

  Jack, however, pulled away and guided her to sit on the wide bench across from the table. Abigail sighed. The moment had been broken. A sadness filled her. There would be nothing between them. Obviously, she had misread that look. Of course, she had.

  He sat down next to her, his leg resting against hers. A tenseness filled her as she froze, unable to move. The man was so powerful, so commanding and they were so alone. A thousand un-lady like thoughts danced through her mind as she imagined things she shouldn’t. She tried to push herself back to reality, but it was impossible. Instead, the two of them sat there, neither moving.

  The awkward tension began to build. But still, neither moved. Swallowing hard, she looked up to find him staring down at her.

  “God, Abigail,” he said, “you are so beautiful. And I really think you are not aware of just how beautiful you are.”

  Her heart jumped. Beautiful. He thought she was beautiful. Was there any more wonderous word in the English language. Especially from his lips. Her cheeks grew warm as she quickly looked down, terrified if she looked at him, he would be able to see her true feelings.

  How could she respond? Should she? Her mouth had gone dry and she doubted she could have formed words even if she knew what to say. This was all so new to her. A man telling her she was beautiful. A man like this. No, never could she have prepared herself for this.

  Staring at her hands folded in her lap she fought to think of what to say when he reached and gently took her chin and tilted her face up so that he could stare into her eyes. Every muscle stiffened in fear and excitement. The rest of the world disappeared. There was only Jack.

  The soft slap of the water against the boat. The distant call of the gulls. Even the scent of the Thames. Everything evaporated into nothingness as his eyes locked with hers. Then, as if in a dream, he slowly lowered to take her lips with his.

  A wave of pure happiness filled her as he held her there, taking, caressing, teasing.

  God, was this what it meant? Was this what other women felt? To be kissed by a man such as this. It was the meaning of life.

  A soft moan escaped before she could stop it. Without thinking, her arms reached up to hold his head in place. No, this must never stop. As if reading her mind, his strong arms wrapped themselves around her, pulling her closer as he deepened the kiss, his tongue gently probing, demanding more.

  Once again, she moaned as she sank into him.

  He chuckled deep in his throat as his arm slipped under her knees and lifted her up onto his lap. God, it felt so deliciously wicked and so right. To sit on this man’s lap and kiss him to abandon.

  The kiss lasted for half of forever as the heat between them grew, faster, hotter. A new feeling filled her. A feeling of need. A strange demand for more. She continued to kiss him as she fought to understand this new strange calling deep inside of her.

  She had no sooner began to work it out when he shifted to gently place kisses to her neck as his hand drifted up from her waist to cup her breast.

  Gasping with pure pleasure she let
herself sink into his caresses. Yes, this was so right. His thumb brushed her nipple and she thought she would be lost forever.

  “So perfect,” he said as he gently unlaced the front of her dress so that he could take a nipple into his mouth.

  Abigail realized she was no longer in control. She would never be in control when it came to this man. She was his to command and she loved that feeling. That knowledge that she was safe in his arms.

  His tongue flicked and fluttered around her nipple making her moan as she squirmed on his lap.

  Then, without warning, he pulled back to look up into her eyes. A sense of loss filled her followed by a new fear. No, he couldn’t stop. Not now. She couldn’t lose this.

  “This was not in my plans,” he said to her.

  She smiled at him, “If you stop now, I will never speak to you again.” It was a lie of course. But she needed more. She needed all she could ever have. Now, with this man.

  His brow furrowed. “Are you sure? If this continues. I will …”

  Abigail took a quick breath as she placed a hand on each side of his face and held him there so that he would understand the truth of her words. “I will never marry. We needn’t worry about me becoming with child. The doctors have told me often enough. No one need ever know. And I would experience what it means to be a woman. At least once in my life.”

  Still, he hesitated. Her insides churned with fear of rejection. He continued to look at her doubtfully, but she could see in his eyes. He wasn’t rejecting her, not truly. It was a worry about doing something she would regret.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  He looked into her eyes, then smiled as he once again took her lips.

  Chapter Fifteen

  A burning need filled Jack as he moved to take a nipple, his hand caressing and squeezing. God, the woman was so enticing. That soft scent of Lavender. The curve of her waist, the taste of her nipple. Each and every aspect designed to drive a man mad with need.

  Granted, he should do the honorable thing and refrain. But, he was lost. The woman had bewitched him.

  As the heat grew between them, she became more demanding. Her hands roaming over his shoulders, down his back, pulling him closer. Then, she frantically pulled his shirt up and over his head. A serious frown creased her brow as she studied him. Her fingers gently running down his chest. Caressing, learning, admiring.

  His soul soared as he fought back the urge to take her there and that very moment. No, not yet, he told himself. She was an innocent. A thought that pushed his need even harder. But he forced it aside and focused on making this special for her.

  Jack lifted Abigail up off his lap to stand before him. She frowned for a moment until he started to unlace her dress. His fingers slowly pulling the ribbons until it became lose enough to push it off her shoulder and let it fall to the deck of the small cabin.

  Standing before him in her shift, she peered into his eyes, as if trying to learn some deep dark secret. The look between them was filled with hidden meanings and future promises. Without smiling, yet holding his stare, she slowly lowered her shift and allowed it to join her dress to stand before him fully exposed. Bare, vulnerable.

  My God, the woman was perfection, he thought as his eyes slowly examined her.

  She blushed, her cheeks growing pink, yet she didn’t look away. Instead, allowing his eyes to travel over her breasts, down over a flat stomach to a soft triangle.

  “You are even more beautiful than I thought,” he said as he put his hands on her hips, gently running his hands down over them. A small scar the only evidence of her injury. And such wonderous hips. Round, soft, and demanding his attention.

  His guts tightened in anger at the thought of this woman ever being hurt.

  Abigail gently pulled his head to her breasts. Giving herself to him, demanding his caress.

  Shifting, he lowered her to the padded bench then stood and quickly removed his pants. She gasped, unable to take her eyes off of his erection. Her tongue darted out to lick her lips as she shivered. A look that could make a man want to charge dragons for her.

  Hesitantly, she reached towards him. Looking up, she silently asked if it was permissible then slowly took him in her hand. Exploring, learning, feeling.

  He groaned with pure pleasure as he allowed her to caress him, increasing his excitement a dozen fold.

  “You …”

  She smiled up at him as her hand began to move back and forth, stroking him.

  “God,” he whispered as he sank down next to her. It was as if a threshold had been crossed. Their hands, their lips, frantically sought to bring and obtain pleasure. The heat between them grew, Abigail shuddered as his fingers found her core. Pushing her higher.

  He needed this woman. More than ever before, now, here. Nothing would hold him from obtaining what his body demanded.

  .o0o.

  Abigail felt as if she was no longer herself. This new world of sensation, of emotion mixed with overwhelming need. A world she hoped to never leave.

  The man was so perfect. He lay with her on the bench, barely enough room. Yet neither would have wished it differently.

  Her hands roamed over his strong muscles. Demanding. Admiring. His fingers caressed and moved to touch her at her most intimate spot. She gasped and threw her head back in abandon. Never … My God, the way he made her feel.

  How was this possible? Please, please do not stop.

  His fingers continued to caress as he took her breast with his lips. A frightening sensation began to build inside of her. Up, leading to more fear and hope. Building, higher until her world exploded into a thousand colored lights.

  “Jack!” she screamed as she gripped his shoulders. Hanging on for dear life as wave after wave of pure pleasure washed over her. He held her, kept her safe as her world slowly returned to some semblance of control.

  He shifted so that she was laying on the, then positioned himself between her legs.

  Abigail held her breath in anticipation. Yes, she wanted this so much. She would surely die if he did not complete the act.

  Slowly, ever so slowly, he pushed himself into her. Yes, she thought as she opened for him. Stretching, taking him into her. Him, her Jack. My God, he was so large. So strong. And yet he continued to enter her, pushing her world to a new awareness.

  He stopped for a moment then pushed through her barrier. A quick sharp pain filled her, to be almost instantly replaced by a sense of fullness. A sense of rightness. Yes, this was what life meant.

  Taking a moment, he allowed her body to adjust then pulled back slightly before thrusting into her again and again.

  “Yes,” she moaned as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him close. She needed his weight on her. Needed him inside of her. Needed this heat between them. And still, he continued to thrust into her. Over and over. His hips shifting to attack from a new angle, then shifting again, over and over again.

  There, almost there, yes, she thought it was going to happen again, it was coming and the anticipation was glorious.

  Jack’s forehead was furrowed in concentration, his very soul consumed with thrusting into her. Then, without warning, he gave one last mighty push and exploded inside of her. His warm seed filling her. His pulsing shaft pushing her over the edge into oblivion.

  Never … My God, over and over, wave after wave, a thousand pieces. … Oh … God … Yes.

  It felt as if it would go on forever. Just when she thought it might begin to end, he would shift slightly and once again she would explode.

  He let out a last heavy breath and collapsed on her. Abigail held him tight as a tear slowly fell when she realized this would never happen again. Once he had chosen his bride, she would never come to him. She knew her Jack, he would never be so dishonorable to his future wife.

  No, this would be her only time with this man. The one time she knew what it was like to be a woman. A woman desired by a man such as Jack Hardy.

  No sooner had the thought ente
red her mind than it was followed by a thousand others. All of them filled with fear and trepidation. How could she possibly talk to him in public without remembering the feeling of him being inside of her? What if he no longer wanted to know her? Had she ruined their friendship? The thought sent a new shaft of pure misery into her very soul.

  No, she thought. No matter what, she would not allow that to happen. A sense of completeness filled her. No matter the sadness she would face. No matter the heartache. No one could ever take this away from her. And she would be this man’s friend until the day she died. It was all she could hope for and all she had to offer.

  “Here …” he said as he pulled away from her. A sense of loss filled her but she bit back the tears. He smiled gently, then lifted her as if she were but an afterthought before twisting to lay down on the narrow bench and placed her to lay on top of him. Chest to chest, his long legs wrapping around hers.

  Oh, the sense of her skin next to his, such a glorious feeling. He continued to smile up at her as he tenderly pushed the hair from her eyes while his other hand rubbed her back, gently telling her that everything would be all right.

  Had he enjoyed himself? Had she done anything wrong? Perhaps she had been too forward, too demanding. He had made no comment about her leg. She knew it was slightly deformed, thinner than her good leg. Had he found it unbecoming?

  As if reading her mind, he smiled and leaned up to kiss her. “I like your hips,” he said as his hand ran down to caress them and squeeze. “They are a woman’s hips. But the special part. This is,” he added as he squeezed her rear, “this is your best asset.”

  Her insides turned over with joy. He found her, Abigail Dupont, attractive. No woman could ever ask for more.

  Sighing, she placed her head on his chest and listened to his mighty heartbeat like one of those new steam engines. Powerful and hypnotic.

  They lay there, both lost in thought and satisfaction, his hand gently caressing her. Then, he pulled her up so that he could kiss her. My God, the man was the devil himself as once again she felt the need begin to build inside of her.