Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

Evie…

Her name echoed over and over in his head, like a mantra that he could not get rid of.

Daniel had never found a woman he could not resist until Lady Evelyn Fitzroy-Stanton came into his life and upended the order he fought so hard to maintain.

She was like a fire in his blood, a dancing flame that lit all desire within him. Ever since she had moved into Ashton Hall, he had existed in a state of agony. Indeed, to want her as fiercely as he did and yet keep his hands off her was a particularly exquisite torment that showed no signs of abating anytime soon.

He tossed back the glass of brandy that he had been nursing and turned towards the dying embers in the fireplace, his eyes narrowing slightly when he recalled how Evie hated fire.

And he hated how she had been so fearful of it.

The feeling of holding her frail, shivering figure in his arms as the fireworks exploded overhead was something he could not wash away from his memory anytime soon.

Suddenly, he heard a soft knock, and the door to his rooms in the tower creaked open. He turned around, his breath catching in his throat when he beheld his young wife, his Duchess, peering into the room, dressed in nothing more than a diaphanous robe and a nightgown that left little else to the imagination.

As if the inability to stop thinking about her is not enough. She has to come into my room wearing only that.

He was caught between wanting to thank Madame Dumosse for crafting such a masterpiece and never using her services in the future.

“What are you doing here, Duchess?” he asked softly. “Should you not be in bed at this hour?”

The word bed conjured up images of naked limbs—his and hers—entwined on the silken sheets. Of her soft moans filling the air as he drove into her sweet, wet heat…

He shook his head and inwardly berated himself, but it was too late. His cock had already noticed her presence, and now it had become hard with want.

Thankfully, he had only been in the process of changing out of his clothes and he still had his breeches on. One look between his legs, though, and Evie would be left with no doubt of his yearning for her.

“Well, I see you are not yet asleep either, so I wished to have a talk with you,” she informed him.

He could feel his blood thrumming, singing with the keen desire to draw her into his arms. To drag her underneath him and devour her. Possess every delectable inch of her until there was no question as to who she belonged to.

“It is barely the first day of our marriage, and already you are breaking my rules, Duchess,” he growled, stalking towards her, eyeing her like a wolf would eye his prey.

He watched as Evie shivered slightly and smiled to himself. But then, she gave a little shake of her head and looked straight at him, her eyes narrowing.

“You have set your own rules, so I wish to impose some of my own as well,” she declared with a haughty tilt of her chin.

How could a woman who barely reached his shoulder and was practically half his weight stand up to him, when lesser men had quailed? If anything, it only served to whet his appetite even more.

He smiled at her as he stalked towards her. “Well, what did you have in mind?”

He could be lenient, he decided. After all, he had no desire to make this an unhappy marriage for her, even if he could not fulfill all of his husbandly duties. Evie would have everything she wanted out of this union—the glory of becoming the Duchess of Ashton, the endless wealth at her disposal… She could commission a yacht to sail on the Thames the very next day and he would not even bat an eye.

Just not himself.

If he succumbed, then there would be no going back. For either of them.

She looked up at him and licked her lips, causing him to groan inwardly at the sight. Here he was, trying his damnedest to rein in his lust, and she was methodically dismantling it with every second she spent in his room.

“We have to spend time with each other!” she exclaimed, the exasperation clear in her voice. “We cannot be one of those couples who despise each other!”

He stepped closer to her, and to her credit, she did not waver, did not step back. She held her ground, which told him that she was quite serious about this.

“Last time I remembered, you do despise me, Duchess,” he reminded her with a bitter laugh. “You always have.”

“No, I do not.” She rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, I certainly found you annoying—make no mistake about that. I still do, mind you.”

His breath hitched in her throat at the sound of her laughter, the brightness of her smile. Who the hell needed a candle when she could light up a whole room with her smile alone?

“Go back to your room, Duchess,” he warned her darkly.

He had no business thinking about her like that. Not when she was in his room and he was fighting every desire to keep her.

But then, she peered over his shoulder, at his bed of all things. He saw her beautiful eyes widen as they took in the dark sheets on the massive four-poster bed.

“What are those?” she choked out, pointing at the silken ribbons that dangled lazily from each post.

Nothing you should be asking about.

“Do you really want to know?” he snapped at her.

Can she not see that she should not be here?

At the merest hint of his displeasure, men scurried away from him in fear. Why was Evie, so much smaller than him, practically impervious to any of that?

“Well, I asked you, did I not?” She sniffed, thoroughly incensed by the tone he used with her.

Unlike him, she had grown up pampered, having never known hardship all her life except for the fire that nearly claimed her life more than half a decade ago at Blackthorn Estate. Colin and Lady Wellington had indulged her in every aspect, hoping to erase any lingering trauma that might have resulted from that fateful night.

But perhaps what Evie truly needed was someone to be brutally honest with her. Someone who could show her that the world was not all sunshine and rainbows and that not all people were good.

Not even the ones she thought she knew best.

Daniel walked over to her and leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Those four ribbons at the post can be used to tie you up—one for each limb so that you will be spread out before me without any hope of escape.”

He heard the soft gasp that left her and smiled to himself.

That’s it, my sweet. I am not the romantic gentleman you imagined me to be. I am a creature of depravity, and you would do well to stay the hell away from me.

“That other one,” he continued in the same low, silky voice. “I could use that to blindfold you so that you will be completely at my mercy as I take you over and over and over again…”

Her breaths now came out quick and shallow, her eyes wide as she stared at the bed before her. He had dropped all pretense now. He had shown her his darker side—the one that no one dared to speak of.

She should be fearful of him. She should want to run away.

And for as much as that should relieve him, he felt a keen sense of loss that Evie might never be able to accept him fully for his proclivities.

This is for the best.

“This is why you should leave,” he told her with finality. “A man like me with such dark passions should never corrupt someone like you.”

He thought he heard her whimper.

He thought he felt her shudder with fear. Disgust. Revulsion.

But then, she turned around to face him, and the look in her eyes nearly caused him to stagger back.

Mirrored in her blue-gray eyes was the same dark longing that he knew was lurking in his own gaze.

She knew she should be scared. She knew that her first instinct—had she been a normal, rational being—should have been to turn around and run as fast as she could.

But the heat that pooled low in her belly would not let her. The deep, dark desire that swirled in his vivid green eyes pinned her to the spot.

How could she leave when all she ever wanted at that moment was for him to show her the very things he had kept from her?

“Show me.”

The look of surprise on his handsome features would have been comical if she had not felt so insanely attracted to him. Her burgeoning curiosity, the fire that simmered in her veins, turning her blood molten…

Evie did not want to leave. Not at all.

“You do not know what you are asking for,” he muttered hoarsely, even as he reached for her, his hand delving into her hair.

“On the contrary,” she replied with a smile that looked bolder than she felt. “I do not think I have wanted anything more.”

Daniel let out a sound that was halfway between a groan and a cry of exhilaration. His fingers dug into her scalp, tilting her head back as his lips slanted over hers in a kiss that threatened to steal her soul.

He has already stolen my mind. I might as well give him the rest of me.

Evie kissed him back, her lips moving over his as she followed his lead.

She might have very little knowledge of the affairs of the marriage bed, but what she lacked in experience, she would make up for in enthusiasm.

His teeth scraped against her lips, his tongue plunging into her mouth to boldly explore the depths within. He kissed her as if he was a starving man in the desert and she was the oasis he had stumbled upon.

Evie opened up to him, pressing herself to him. Offering herself as if she was a feast, inviting him to devour her.

“You are going to be the death of me,” he groaned against her mouth.

She smiled slightly, still breathless from the force of his kiss. “I should hope not,” she quipped in an attempt at lightheartedness. “You have many more things to teach me, husband, and I shall not countenance becoming a widow until I have learned them all.”

“Colin was right to not leave you unattended,” he muttered harshly. “Your mischief certainly knew no bounds.”

Evie made a noise at the back of her throat to let him know that she did not want to talk about her brother. Not when she was in his arms, being kissed to an inch of her sanity. Not when they were standing so close to his bed and she was practically offering herself to him.

He laughed hoarsely at her impatience, and then, in a rough voice, he ordered, “To the bed.”

Evie nodded, trembling with excitement as she stumbled to the bed. How embarrassing that she should lose all grace and poise before him.

However, those fleeting thoughts vanished when she felt his fingers running down her spine, caressing her as he unerringly nudged her towards his massive bed. He leaned close to her, his warm breath fanning the sensitive shell of her ear.

“Do you trust me?” he asked her.

Evie bit her lower lip and nodded.

“If anything becomes too much for you,” he warned her, “just tell me. It might damned well kill me to stop, but I will. For you.”

But she did not want him to stop. Not now at least.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked her again.

Evie nodded, more resolutely this time.

And then, her vision went black.