Duchess Decadence by Wendy LaCapra

Author:Wendy LaCapra [LaCapra, Wendy]
Language: ara
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: The Furies, Scandalous, gambling, Romance, Historical Romance, Historical, wendy lacapra, Entangled
ISBN: 9781633754010
Google: yIZqCgAAQBAJ
Amazon: B014CQ0T8A
Publisher: Macmillan
Published: 2015-10-19T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Early morning light roused Wynchester from the deepest sleep he’d had in, well, he could not answer. It had been a good sleep, anyway. Gradually, he became aware of unfamiliar surroundings—papered pink-and-gold walls, a dark wood bed with floral carvings, and the scents of talc and rose and woman.

His woman.

She slept facing him, one arm curled up under her chin. She was lovely in slumber. Serene and innocent…Although he could scarcely describe her as innocent after what they’d done last night.

He rolled onto his side, propping his head up on his arm and admiring her slightly parted lips—the same lips that had cried Wyn in the heat of passion. Soon, she’d open those eyes and their ethereal blue depth would snag and reel him in, just as they always had.

Always before, he’d stubbornly resisted the pull, flailing and sputtering with the same excuses: sentiment would be his undoing, she was far too caustic to be cherished, and she was far too prone to excess to be trusted.

He couldn’t speak to the dangers of sentiment—not any longer. After riding into a riot, attempting to carry her off, and rutting against her body like a randy school boy, there was no question that horse had left the stall.

As for caustic…she was caustic at times, and—he thought of his own biting set-downs—so was he. She was also prone to excess, in sentiment, in gambling, in risk and now, he knew, in passion. Last night he’d decided he was man enough to meet insatiable, but could he satisfy her in every way?

The thought had once kept him rigid with fear. Now, he’d like to try.

He had known her from childhood, but he was no longer certain he knew her as well as he should. Why the excess? Why the sharp wit? Why the penchant to run when she clearly had the strength to stay and fight?

Who was she, this duchess of his?

And, for that matter, who was he?

He had never fit anywhere, except within his study, devising political tactics, analyzing and addressing the needs of his various properties. Impossible to believe he could come together in a perfect fit with the beautiful creature that was his duchess.

Even when they were young, he’d seen the expectation in her eyes—large eyes that would read him in silence and then blossom with compassion or encouragement, depending on what she thought she had seen. She’d wanted his all—his secrets, his pain, his passion, his hope. So he’d stepped behind a stiff wall of formality.

What if he gave her all and she rejected him? She’d left him once, and he’d survived only because he had not let her all the way inside. What if he cracked open his heart, she peered within, and at the end of the summer she still went away?

Her eyes fluttered open and, after a moment of sleepy confusion, she blushed and smiled.

…And he knew it was far too late to be asking questions. His heart had already cracked. There was nothing left to do but face his fate.

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