The Widow and Her Duke: The Grand Hotel: Book One by Felicia Greene

Author:Felicia Greene [Greene, Felicia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-01-04T18:00:00+00:00

Oysters. A large surfeit of oysters on ice, with a little lemon and vinegar on the side. Or a new coat—an expensive one, perhaps with a lambskin lining. Richard determinedly kept his mind trained on pleasant, inconsequential things as he walked back to his rooms, waiting for the sting of Serafine’s goodbye to pass. He had been thrown out of any number of rooms before, occasionally by irate husbands; it was normal to have the feathers of one’s pride ruffled on occasion. Quite why it hurt so acutely this time, with Serafine’s absence clutching at him, was something that he was determined to avoid thinking about.

His room seemed colder than before as he entered. Much colder. Richard drifted from the door, to his desk and then to the window, looking down at the groups of chattering pleasure-seekers wandering down the sunlit street.

Didn’t the period after an encounter normally feel… good? It certainly felt better than this. He usually felt sated, like a lion that had taken its fill of a feast–but to his deep annoyance, he felt hungrier than ever.

Not just physically. He’d happily have Serafine again, no question–just thinking about the pleasure they’d given one another made him ready to begin all over again. It had matched–no, surpassed–every single one of his expectations in that department. But other wants had flowered, even as his most potent lust had been satisfied.

He wanted her conversation. Wanted her laughter. Wanted to–to stroke her hair, to murmur scandalous things in her ear as they walked down a street together.

He even wanted to see her in her darker moments. Wanted to see her when she felt sick, tired, bored with the world. Wanted to comfort her, caress her… console her.

‘Christ.’ Richard muttered to himself as he stared out of the window. ‘I’m getting a brain fever.’

There was no point in mooning over her now. All he’d ever wanted from her was pleasure, after all–and he’d certainly succeeded in that department. Now was the moment to relish the memories, consign Serafine to the past and choose a new conquest.

Except he didn’t want to. Every atom of his being violently rebelled against looking at any other woman. Richard gritted his teeth, pressing his forehead to the cold glass of the window.

As for that display before she threw him out… goodness, she had been right to do it. He had been behaving in a thoroughly useless fashion—like a swain with his first ever woman, rather than someone who could have his pick of any of them.

Even if he didn’t even want to look at another woman, it was probably important to do precisely that. Better to get back on the horse immediately after a fall—it worked for hunting, and it would work for coarser pleasures.

He had never been the type to sit around and dream. Losing oneself in misery was for lesser men. Turning away from the window with a grimace, Richard rang the bell for his valet and threw himself into an armchair with a sigh.

After a few long minutes, Wilson appeared.

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