Wish Upon a Duke (The Dukes' Club Book 3) by Eva Devon

Author:Eva Devon [Devon, Eva]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Regency, Duke, Victorian, Historical Romance
Goodreads: 25013806
Publisher: Bard Productions
Published: 2015-02-23T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Duncan smiled like a loon. There was nothing for it. He was in seventh heaven. Good God, what he’d been missing. And yet, he was fairly certain that no other woman except Imogen would have slaked his desire so passionately. So entirely.

He glanced over at her naked, sleeping form covered by the quilts. Her golden hair spilled over the pillow, a single strand tickling her cheek. Oh, how he was going to enjoy this. Every moment with her would have to be savored. Because this was an indulgence, a temporary lapse, and much like the drunkard who takes a sip after a long absence, he knew he was going to indulge until he could indulge no more and then find the straight and narrow path once again. But at present, he had no wish to think of straight paths.

Imogen’s curves were far more absorbing.

The energy pulsing through his body was a complete shock. Preachers always insisted that lechery led to all manner of sins, such as sloth. How had he forgotten how alive a man felt after making love to a woman? Damnation, he couldn’t recall ever feeling this alive. Certainly not in the last several years of his good behavior.

With a deep inhalation, he jumped off the bed, glorying in the fact he was totally naked. He stretched his arms above his head, strode to his kilt drunkenly strewn over the floor, and hauled it on. Today was going to be a damned good day. One of the best. “Up, lass,” he called.

She snuggled into the blankets.

He strode back to her, yanked the covers back, and groaned with delight as he caught sight of her perfect bum. He gave it a playful smack. “Up. It’s time to face the world.”

“Can’t we face the world under the covers?”

“If I climb back in bed, I’m never getting out, and then I shall waste away. I’m famished. You shouldn’t wish me to die of starvation, should you?”

Her lips twitched. “To let your perfect form waste away? That would be a sin against all womankind.”

“Good.” He cleared his throat, still not quite able to take such a compliment. “Now, let’s go.”

She laughed. “It takes me longer than you to dress.”

He scowled. “But I wish to go now.”

She swung her legs over the side of the bed, then pranced to him and propped her hands on her lush hips. “Is this how you’d like me to go then? Naked as the day I was born?”

His chest and cock tightened. “No man should see you but me,” he said before he could think.

Her face softened. “Well then, I suppose I should put some clothes on.”

“Yes,” he said. “I’ll. . . I’ll arrange for an outing.”

“That sounds like a very good plan.”

He headed for the door, then stopped.

“Imogen,” he said, his voice surprisingly gentle to his own ears. “You look so beautiful. You don’t need to spend much time getting ready.”

“Should I wear breeches then, like Cordelia?” she sallied.

“Yes,” he replied immediately.

“They’re not proper.”

“Do I look like I give a damn about proper today?”

“No,” she whispered.

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