The Summer Duke (A Duke for All Seasons Book 3) by Jillian Eaton

Author:Jillian Eaton [Eaton, Jillian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-07-06T18:30:00+00:00

Andrew cursed.

He’d handled that badly. He knew it even before Regina’s beautiful green eyes glimmered with tears.

Bloody hell.

What sort of bastard told his wife she was a mistake? Mouth twisting in self-disgust, he stalked to his study and slammed the door with enough force that the sound of it reverberated all the way down the hallway. Fingers clenching in his hair, he sat behind his desk, tipped back his chair, and stared up at the ceiling, unable to evict Regina’s stricken expression from his mind.

There was no reason for him to be unkind. No reason to treat her badly. No reason to act like a giant arse. Except when he was acting like a giant arse he could forget, if only for a few seconds, what her lips tasted like. And he didn’t have to think about how much he wanted to kiss her again.

Which he did. Kiss her, that is.

More than he cared to admit.

Even in the midst of their fight he’d wanted to kiss her. His arms had ached to draw her against his chest. His mouth had tingled from the memory of what those lovely lips had felt like pressed against his. His fingers had itched to delve into all those soft, silky blonde tresses. So why hadn’t he done it? Why hadn’t he brought her into his arms and kissed her? She was his wife. There would be no gossip. No scandal. No ruination.

But still he hadn’t. Because if he kissed her…if he kissed her he was afraid he’d feel something for her, his little bookish wife he’d never wanted by couldn’t stop thinking about. Something stronger than lust. Stronger than passion. Stronger than anything he’d ever felt for any woman before.

Love.

Scowling, Andrew tipped his chair forward. He still stood behind what he had told Regina that night in the library, and he didn’t believe in love any more now than he had then. Why would he? His parents had gotten on well enough and they’d hardly been the epitome of a loving couple.

Polite.

With the exception of the argument he’d witnessed right before his father’s death, they’d always been unfailingly polite. To each other. To him. To the servants. And if there were times he wished his mother would embrace him, or his father would tell him how proud he was, well – a man (or the young boy he’d been) couldn’t have everything he wanted.

He desired that same cool detachment between himself and Regina because it was what he’d grown up with. It was what he knew. It was what he was accustomed to. It was what he liked. Not all these bloody feelings hammering at him like waves crashing upon a shore, one after the other after the other.

All he needed to do was convince his softhearted wife that it was better if they maintained an emotional barrier between them. Better if they suppressed any urges they might have to fall in love (his lip curled at the thought) and commit themselves to a respectful business partnership.

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