Deceived & Honoured - The Baron's Vexing Wife (Love's Second Chance #7)

Something changed in her husband in that moment. His body tensed as though he forced a tight control on emotions that threatened to burst forth. Was he angry with her? Although his shoulders were drawn up, the muscles in his neck taut as his right hand curled around the shirt he was still holding, his gaze held hers with a smouldering intensity that spoke not of anger but rather of?

“I never said that I did not want you,” he growled, measured steps?slow and oddly menacing?carrying him closer as his gaze held hers, watching her. When he came to stand in front of her, he exhaled slowly, his teeth gritting together painfully, before a tiny spark ignited deep within him, sending him into motion.

Puzzled by his reaction at first, Madeline now found her body warming under his gaze and her skin tingle with anticipation. There was something in the way he looked at her that spoke of a struggle, one she could not understand. And yet, there was something else in his gaze as well, something lurking underneath the surface of his guarded exterior, something that promised passion and?

As her eyes travelled to his chiselled chest, marred by scars, and yet, radiating warmth and safety, his paralysis exploded, propelling him toward her.

Tossing the shirt aside, her husband reached for her, his arms coming around her lightning-quick.

Madeline gasped as she found herself pulled against him, his warmth engulfing her like a wildfire, scorching her skin even through the layers of wet clothing. Before she could form a conscious thought, his left hand slid up the slope of her neck, cupping the side of her face and tipping her head back. Staring up into his eyes, Madeline had barely enough time to fill her lungs with air before his mouth claimed hers.

Although they had kissed before this was different.

Swept off her feet, Madeline could barely tell up from down. All she knew was where his body touched hers, holding her ever closer as though he could not bear even the smallest distance between them. Her hands slid up his chest, feeling his skin, warm and smooth, here and there lined with thin scars, the story of his battles. And yet, it seemed that the battle that had waged within him had been the one consuming him whole.

There was something urgent and desperate in the way he kissed her as though he had denied himself the pleasure for too long. Had he? Madeline wondered dimly as his hand slid further back, cupping the back of her neck and holding her against him. His mouth opened, and he deepened the kiss, stealing her breath and turning her knees into pudding.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Madeline wondered why he had waited so long to kiss her when he had so obviously wanted to? And why had she never noticed? Was his mask so much better than hers? Or had she simply not dared to look closely enough, afraid of what she would find?

Returning his kiss with equal measure, Madeline could barely remember the cold that had held her in its clutches before. Now, her body seemed to burn with heat, eagerly straining against him, all her senses narrowing in on the pleasure of his touch.

And then he pulled away.

The moment his lips left hers, Madeline’s eyes flew open, a growl of displeasure stuck in her throat. But although he lifted his head, his gaze once more burning into hers, his arms never loosened their hold on her. He held her as possessively as before as though never intending to release her, and yet, there was a touch of indecision, of doubt in his eyes that Madeline could not understand.

He inhaled deeply, the muscles in his jaw tensing as before. “You need to get out of these clothes.” He spoke the words as he had earlier, and still, Madeline knew there was a deeper meaning to them the moment she felt his right hand tug on the laces of her dress.

Her gaze widened slightly as she understood his underlying question, and a shiver went through her at the thought of sharing his bed. However, Madeline could not deny that she was no longer the woman she had been on her wedding night. Then, she had seen it as her duty. Now, it was something else.

Something much more pleasurable.

Desirable.

Utterly tempting.

Seeing the tension on her husband’s face as he waited for her answer, Madeline acted on impulse. Pushing herself up on the tips of her toes, she planted her lips on his.

Taken aback, he hesitated for a moment. However, it vanished in the blink of an eye.

Returning her kiss with the same eagerness as before, he held her close, his hands roaming over her back, undoing the laces that held her dress closed one by one. As they fell away, the wet fabric remaining plastered to her skin, keeping the dress from sliding to the floor, Madeline felt his hands move to her shoulders.

Slowly, his fingers slipped underneath the fabric, brushing over her bare skin, sending goosebumps up and down her body. Then he gently moved the dress down, baring the skin to the chilled night air.

Madeline sucked in a sharp breath, her gaze fixed on his as her dress slowly slid down her body, finally pooling around her feet. With only her chemise to clothe her, Madeline felt utterly exposed…in more ways than one. Although her gaze held his, she could not bear to look at him. They had crossed the threshold into physical intimacy, and yet, secrets remained, hidden deep inside. On some level, they were still strangers, and Madeline could not think of a way to come full circle.

Afraid he felt it too, afraid he might pull away again, she once more reached up to kiss him.

As before he answered her plea eagerly, his body shifting as he swept her into his arms and carried her the few steps to the bed.

In the hearth, the fire crackled, sending its warmth across the room. However, Madeline had no need for a fire any longer as the heat that burned between them warmed her chilled skin in the most delicious way.





Chapter Twenty-Five ? A Coward at Heart

Glancing at the other side of the bed where his wife lay sleeping, her wild black curls splayed across the pillow, Derek smiled. He reached out and touched a strand of her hair, feeling it still damp between his fingers.

As the rain continued to beat down onto the roof, Derek prayed that his repairs would hold. For her sake. To keep her warm. However, turning his head, he caught sight of her wet clothes, lying crumpled across the room, and could not deny that the rain had been in his favour tonight.

Without the downpour, there would have been no need for a fire. If she had not failed at lighting her own fire, she would not have come into his room, frustrated and angry. And if she had not come into his room, they would not have…

Derek sighed, wishing he could simply reach out and pull her into his arms.

However, he dared not.

As physically intimate as they had been with each other, there were still things between them.

Secrets.

Growling under his breath, Derek pushed back the blanket and surged to his feet. Although he did not wish to, although he tried to force the image from his mind with all his might, he could not stop the memory of his wife telling him she had married the wrong man.

Ever since Madeline had arrived at Huntington House, Derek had all but forgotten her intention of seeking out Townsend to begin an affair with him. Occasionally, the memory had crossed his mind, but he had always banished it instantly, sickened by the possibility that she had made good on her promise.

Pulling on his shirt and breeches, Derek hastened downstairs. He did his best not to disturb the house as it lay in silence, his own emotions in stark contrast to the peacefulness of the night.

Slipping into his boots and pulling on a warm coat, he strode toward the logs stacked at the back wall of the barn. If he was up, he might as well do something useful with the energy that burned in his veins. With a cold winter ahead, they would need all the firewood they could get.

Firewood.

That word instantly brought back the memory of his wife as she had entered his chamber in a flurry of barely repressed indignation and disappointment, her wet skirts dripping all over the floor, her limbs shivering in the cold evening air. More than anything, he had wanted to pull her into his arms and warm her with his body. However, he would never have dared to do so, had she not…

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