A Duke Changes Everything (The Duke's Den #1)

by Christy Carlyle

  “I am fond of gold.”

  “But it’s so bright.”

  “Not all of it.” Nick stepped toward the curtains so Mina could get a wider view. “See that balcony up there? That’s where I sometimes work and watch the play below.”

  “So you linger in the shadows and make sure everyone else is well lit. Because you don’t trust them?”

  “My trust is hard to win.”

  “Mr. Lyon. I did not expect you to return so soon.” Spencer, sharp-eyed factotum that he was, noticed them immediately and approached.

  “Put me down,” Mina insisted.

  Nick bent to let her down gently, but she kept hold of his arm, teetering so much he suspected she’d balanced all her weight on her good foot.

  “Mina, this is Bastian Spencer, manager, advisor, and a man who could run Lyon’s single-handedly if I let him.” Nick gestured toward the burly dark-haired man. “Spencer, may I present Miss Mina Thorne?”

  “Miss Thorne, to have a such a lovely visitor is a rare pleasure.” He bowed and cast Nick a questioning gaze that held none of the chastisement Nick was expecting. “What can I prepare for you, sir?”

  “Send Dr. Stevens, a tea service, whiskey, and bandaging to my chambers.”

  “To your private chambers, sir?”

  Mina winced as she lifted her hand from his arm and attempted to put her weight on both feet.

  Nick wrapped his arm around her waist. “Quickly, Spencer.”

  “I can walk, but do keep holding on to me.”

  “If I must.” As they neared his rooms, Nick’s heartbeat kicked into a gallop. “I should warn you.”

  Mina looked up. “Whatever it is, it can’t be worse than a leaking ballroom and a crumbling parapet walk.”

  He opened the door to his chamber slowly, trying to prepare her. “I chose to decorate my quarters rather—”

  “Lavishly,” she said on a shocked whisper. “You truly do love red.”

  He’d chosen the color for how loud and vibrant and alive it was. The complete opposite of the cold, gray walls of Enderley’s tower. “There are other colors in the room.”

  Too quick for him to hold her back, she limped away and ran her finger along the gilded wainscoting. “Oh, I do like the gold.”

  Nick watched her explore his private space, watched where her gaze went, and listened for her little sounds of interest. He realized he was holding his breath, eager for her approval, not unlike her eagerness for him to appreciate Enderley. This room reflected who he was, who he’d become, and her reaction mattered.

  “The bed is rather—”

  “Oversized.”

  “Tall.” She glanced up where the four posts reached to the ceiling. “Everything you require is here.” With a sweeping gaze, she took in the small dining table, desk, and matching gold settees in front of the fireplace. “Though there isn’t much room for entertaining.” She shot him a curious glance.

  “I don’t entertain. I’ve never invited anyone to join me in this room.”

  She hobbled another step, and Nick rushed over to lend his arm for support. “It’s all rather cozy,” she said with sweeping look around.

  Safe is how Nick thought of this space. His alone. But now, for the first time, he wasn’t alone, and Mina looked right in a room he’d long considered his solitary refuge.

  He led her toward the settee, resisting the urge not to haul her back into his arms. A primal part of him now felt quite certain it was where she belonged.

  Before he could get her seated, three short raps sounded at the door, and Spencer poked his head in. “Forgive me, Mr. Lyon, but Dr. Stevens has gone home for the evening. Apparently, one of his daughters is ill.” Spencer waved a hand, and a servant followed him into the room, bearing the items Nick had requested. The young man deposited them, strode across the room to ignite the kindling in the fireplace, and departed the room quickly.

  Spencer hovered at the threshold. “Shall I call for one of the other doctors or attempt to find someone with such knowledge on the gaming floor? I believe Lord Kellyn was once a medical man.”

  “I don’t think that will be necessary, Mr. Spencer.” Mina spoke up before Nick could tell him to seek whatever doctor they could find. “I’m walking now and my ankle feels much better. Thank you.”

  Spencer responded to her as he would to Nick, nodding his assent and backing out of the room.

  To prove her claim, she hobbled the rest of the way to the settee and dropped onto the cushions. The bodice of her gown dipped, and Nick tried not to gape at the delicious view.

  She lifted the hem of her gown, inch by inch, watching him as if to gauge his reaction.

  If he didn’t know her better, he’d think Mina Thorne meant to seduce him.

  “Shall we have a look?” she asked softly.

  Yes. God, yes. When Nick realized she was speaking of her ankle, he hunched down in front of her to assist.

  Her eyes widened when he lifted her dress higher, but then she began to help, gathering fabric in her hands. Her shapely legs, encased in virginal white stockings, were the most erotic sight he’d ever seen.

  “There’s no visible swelling. Does it still hurt?” He touched her gingerly, stroking his hand up her calf rather than put pressure near her ankle.

  “Perhaps I should remove the stocking.” She lifted her gown an inch more. “Will you help?”

  Mina bit her lip and watched as Nick froze before her, his hand tensing around her calf, his gaze wary.

  “Mina?” He spoke her name as a question, but she wasn’t certain whether he intended to plead with her to continue or warn her off.

  Every part of her body was humming with an energy that wasn’t quite nerves and had nothing to do with the pain from her twisted ankle. She didn’t hurt at all, but she ached in places she’d never ached before.

  Most of all, she wanted. Desperately. Not to see a doctor or even to explore the decadent gambling club over her head. She wanted Nick. Wanted to savor this moment with him, in this private space he shared with no one else.

  He’d let her in. Allowed her to get close to him. But it wasn’t enough. She wanted to get closer. She wanted more of him. Even if this was the only night they’d ever share.

  Here, away from Enderley, there were no titles or duties. Just this. This powerful, undeniable pull between them.

  “No one will interrupt us?”

  “I promise.” He knew what she wanted. He understood why she’d asked. Something in his eyes changed. Heat replaced wariness.

  That’s how she wanted it between them. Real and true, without an ounce of pretense.

  Slowly, he began sliding her stocking over her knee, dragging his fingers against her skin. When he neared her ankle, he cast her a worried look.

  “I don’t want to hurt you. Ever.”

  “Go slow.”

  He did, peeling away the fabric and revealing that her ankle was slightly reddened but barely swollen.

  “Now the other,” she told him, quietly, lifting her opposite leg.

  Bracing her foot on the broad, hard plane of his thigh, Nick held her gaze as he reached under her skirt, rolled down her stocking. When he bent to kiss her exposed knee, Mina grabbed for his lapel.

  She knew where she wanted his lips.

  He settled onto his knees and pressed in between her legs, forcing her to spread wider to accommodate the width of his body.

  “Is this where you want me?”

  “It’s a start.” Mina stroked her fingers through a wave of black hair on his forehead.

  “Tell me what you want. Anything, and you’ll have it.” There was a desperation in his voice that made her body pulse in response. More than her body, some essential part of her. She understood his need. She felt it too.

  “Kiss me.” She wanted his mouth on hers. To taste him. Desperately.

  He studied her lips a moment, took her face in his hands. Mina tugged at his shirt, and was just on the verge of demanding he end the torment of ma
king her wait when his lips came down on hers.

  Their previous kisses had been too rushed. Too new and uncertain. This was different. Slower, and yet hungrier. He tilted his head to kiss her more thoroughly, used his tongue to explore more deeply.

  This was right. Everything else fell away. Passion flooded in, pleasure and a sense of belonging she’d never felt in her life.

  Mina clung to Nick’s shoulders. It didn’t matter that she was safe in his arms, perched on the firm edge of an expensive settee. Everything was falling away. All the years of pretending. All the miserable loneliness. All the restless yearning she’d tried so hard to curb.

  With him, in this moment, in his arms, she wanted and wanted and he gave her more. Exactly what she needed most. To be bare, without a single wall between them or a single defense. And she was unafraid.

  Mina held on to his tensing shoulders and then she got to work, moaning into his kisses as she pushed the coat from his shoulders, worked free the knot of his cravat, fumbled with the buttons of his shirt.

  “It seems you wish to undress me too.” He laid his feverish forehead against hers, watching her fingers work.

  “Yes,” Mina hissed as she found his lips again. “I need to see you.”

  Five little words. Awful words that she immediately wanted to take back. She’d had no idea they’d break the spell.

  Nick’s hands that had been stroking her, gripping her possessively, stilled against her body, and then he pulled away.

  “Nick?”

  “We should turn the lamps down.” He stood and did just that, casting the already dim room into near darkness but for the flicker of flames from the fireplace.

  “You insist on hiding yourself from me?” It was the last thing she wanted.

  “I insist on sparing you.” He returned to her, bending to put his hands on the settee’s back, cocooning her between his arms. “Trust me. You don’t want to see.”

  He kissed her, so sweetly and thoroughly that Mina relented, reaching up to twine her arms around his neck. She would have been quite content for the kiss to go on forever.

  But he soon pulled away slightly, slid a hand under her knees, and scooped her into his arms. As he walked toward the bed, the fire’s glow danced over his face. Mina traced the edge of his jaw, then gently, tentatively, the line of his scar.

  “I’m not afraid of seeing your scars.”

  He settled her with infinite care on the edge of the enormous bed, not quite meeting her gaze. “I am.”

  The ache in her chest was so piercing it stole her breath, and she forced her hands to remain on the bolster rather than reach for him. He hated sympathy or any sign of pity. She’d learned that lesson well.

  Instead, she reached back and unhooked her gown, pulling her arms from the bodice and pushing the fabric down to her waist. Goose bumps danced along her skin. She wore only her practical, unappealing corset and chemise under the beautiful gown.

  Nick didn’t seem to mind. He stood watching breathlessly, eyes squinting in the dim light to take in every detail.

  “There’s a problem with turning the lights so low.” Mina lowered the gown over her hips, arching up to free the fabric under her bottom before letting the red velvet pool at her feet. “If I can’t see you . . .” Scooting onto the bed, she positioned herself in the enormous shadow he cast with the fire’s glow at his back. “How can you see me?”

  Leaning forward, she touched his chest. So warm and firm. She loved the way his muscles jumped under her touch. Sliding her hand down, she found the single fastened button of his shirt and slipped it free. Then she went farther, tugging at the opening of his trousers, her fingers colliding with the hot, hard length of him.

  “Mina.” He released her name on a sound that was both a gasp and a growl. She reveled in how she affected him.

  “Please, Nick. You said I could have whatever I wanted.” She worked the hooks of his trousers until they fell open, slid her fingers inside, and savored his heat. “I want to see you.”

  He helped her remove his trousers and drawers, toed off his boots, and stood before her bare, his body outlined in firelight. Mina unhooked her corset, loosened the ribbon tie of her chemise, and pulled at the generous neckline until it slid off her shoulders.

  Moving to the edge of the bed, she got to her feet, testing her ankle gingerly.

  “Careful,” he said, immediately reaching for her. She caught his hand and then pressed her wrist to his palm. Her pulse raced and she wanted him to feel what he did to her.

  The last piece of clothing fell to the floor. She’d let go of the final shreds of hesitation. More than anything, this was what she wanted.

  Nick stroked his fingers along the edge of her breast, drawing his thumb gently across her taut, aching nipple. Then he bent to kiss her. First her mouth, then her chin, then the sensitive hollow at the base of her throat. He flicked out his tongue to taste her skin, and Mina licked her lips, eager to do the same to him.

  His lips closed over her nipple and she felt the gentle stroke of his tongue all the way to the center of her thighs.

  “Please.” It was the only word that made any sense, and she wasn’t sure what she was pleading for, except for more. To get closer, to see him more clearly. “Come into the light.”

  He lifted his head, searching her face. Mina stepped out of his arms and inched past him. She reached for his hand and urged him forward. He let her lead him and stepped a bit closer to the fireplace.

  Mina held her breath to keep from gasping when she got a good view of his body. She willed the burning in her eyes not to turn to tears.

  Faded scars crisscrossed his back, buttocks, and upper thighs. Below the stripes, he was an astonishing man. He possessed the broadest shoulders she’d ever seen, made more so by layers of muscles that bunched and tensed as she studied him.

  “Enough,” he said roughly. “Let me see you now.”

  Mina didn’t give him what he asked. Not yet. She stepped closer, pressing her body against his back. She traced one scar gently, and he shivered in response. Then she pressed her mouth to the spot, trailing kisses along the healed-over wound she’d traced.

  He turned and pulled her in roughly, kissing her hard on the mouth, then gentling. He drew his fingers along her neck as if she was fragile and delicate. “Is this what you want, Mina?”

  She cupped his scarred cheek, nudged his face down so they were eye to eye. “I will never pretend with you. This is me, doing exactly as I wish.”

  “Tell me what you wish.”

  “To love every part of you.” Sliding her hand down to explore, she felt the galloping thuds of his heartbeat. It was strong and thrashing for her and this moment. That’s the part she truly wished to get to, to burrow in and soothe every torn and tattered piece.

  Most of all, she hoped he’d let her.

  Chapter Twenty

  Love.

  The single word jolted through him, every nerve fizzing. His knees felt unsteady. His heart knocked against his ribs.

  Nick prided himself on being strong.

  He bested men at Gentleman Jackson’s boxing club every week. For years, he’d worked to whip the anemic, pigeon-toed boy he’d once been into a man that no one could get the better of in a brawl.

  Now this petite, gorgeous stubborn woman had stripped away all his bravado.

  Mina didn’t make him feel weak. She made him want to surrender. To give her everything and hold nothing back. Even if it meant she’d see the truth of who he was—the ugliness, inside and out. Somehow, she’d unearthed goodness in him, a vein of decency he’d doubted he still possessed.

  Hooking one of her fingers around two of his, she led him toward the bed.

  Nick followed. He would have followed her anywhere.

  When she reached the bedside, she turned before settling on the edge. For a moment, he got lost in looking. At the way a curling strand of hair hung down over one ripe pink nipple, at the gentle dip of her waist and the ample flair of her hip
s, at the perfect triangle of curls at the center of her thighs.

  “Does it still hurt?” He knelt in front of her and stroked a hand down her leg, stopping just above her ankle.

  She shook her head, then bit her lip when he nudged her thighs apart. A little tremor rippled across her skin.

  “You need only say the word and I’ll stop.”

  “Don’t stop.” Threading her fingers into his hair, she pulled him nearer. “I want you close.”

  Nick moved his hand up her thigh, until the tips of his fingers brushed her damp curls. “This close?”

  “Yes.” She dipped her head to watch as he slid a finger along her sex.

  Nick waited, desperate to be inside her heat, worried she’d soon come to her senses and push him away. But she wasn’t hesitating. She was impulsive, impatient. She bucked against his finger and gasped when he pressed inside.

  He stroked her, watching the play of emotions cross her face. Wonder and pleasure and need that matched his own. When he pushed in deeper, she dropped her head back, closed her eyes, and arched into his touch. Then she looked at him, eyes glazed with desire. “More,” she told him huskily. “I want you closer.”

  Nick scooted nearer, lifting her legs onto his shoulders as he bent his head. He traced his tongue along every inch he’d explored with his fingers.

  “Nick,” she gasped his name, clutched at his shoulder, nails digging in to his skin. “Please.”

  It was the plea that broke him, that cut loose any thought of taking this slow, of holding back. He laved her deeply, savoring the taste of her, the delicious moans he felt reverberating against his tongue. Then she cried out, fingers digging into his skin, body trembling against his mouth.

  Nick licked his lips and got to his feet, never lifting his hands from her body, always staying close, where she’d urged him to be. He placed a knee on the bed and leaned over her. She looked like a well-sated goddess, her body flushed and glistening, hair spilled out around her in shiny waves.

  She lifted both arms, reaching for him, and he swallowed hard. The trust in her eyes sent something strangely like joy sliding through his veins.