A Virgin for the Ruthless Duke (In War and Love #2)

Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

S everal days had passed since the Mulford’s ball, where Selina had shared that heated interlude with the Duke and he had followed her to modiste for fittings for a new dress.

No matter what she did, she could not shake the notion that the Duke would make a wonderful husband, given how caring, handsome, and intense he was. Not that she had any hope of him looking her way. He had a better chance of making good matches with girls fresh out of the schoolroom who sighed over his good looks and worshipped the ground he walked on.

For the better part of a week, she had trouble going about her usual tasks. Her mind seemed to be fixated on Richard—his good looks; his deep voice; his actions, which confused and confounded her. One minute he was teasing her, seducing her like he was interested in her, the next he was avoiding her like the plague, preferring to walk in the chilly weather rather than share a carriage with her.

Even now, lying in bed, she finally admitted that she had not approached him alone in the library simply to discuss the deficiency of her wardrobe. It would have been easy to solve the matter. She could have simply gone to the modiste and requested that they determine which colors suited her best.

Instead, she had made the excuse to see him, deluding herself to the point that she felt he was the best person to help her purchase dresses and she had to meet him urgently—even better if he was alone.

But when she had stood with her back flush against the wall, his arms bracketing her and caging her in, she finally admitted the truth—that she was so drawn to the Duke that she wanted to be in his presence always, that she loved watching expressions play across his too-handsome face and listening to that deep voice of his that sparked fire in her nerve endings.

At that moment, when she had stood in his arms, she had wanted nothing more than his kiss. To have the perfect arch of his lips pressed against hers. It nearly happened, judging by the fire that burned in his eyes. But the moment before their lips could touch, he had withdrawn, seeming to realize who she was. She had felt disappointment and embarrassment so acute that she had wished the ground would open up and swallow her.

The moment they almost kissed had remained, playing in an endless loop in her head since that day and haunting her dreams until she woke up frustrated and aroused.

The Duke of Seymour seemed to have taken up residence in her head without her consent, and it was all shades of annoying.

“My Lady?” Betsy called, poking her head around the door. She pushed it open further when she noted that Selina was back. “There is a delivery for you from the modiste. Your dresses have arrived, My Lady,” she said with a bright smile.

“Really?” Selina asked, sitting up.

She slid out of bed and pulled a wrap over her dress just as the door opened and footmen brought in several boxes, each tied elegantly with an emerald-green ribbon.

They set them down on the floor, and she counted no less than eight boxes. She did not remember being fitted for that many dresses. Opening the first box, her mouth dropped open in amazement.

Inside the box was the most beautiful dress she had ever seen, folded and complete with a note. The note was signed by the Duke of Seymour, requesting that she wear the dress for the upcoming ball.

The dress was a beautiful piece made with emerald sequins that caught the light as she moved. Its bodice was cut lower than she was used to—perhaps to honor the Duke’s idea for dresses that would flatter her slender neck. The dress was fitted, drawing the eye to her curves.

She couldn’t help but stare at herself in the mirror. She had to admit that she looked like a siren gowned in a green fire. While she admired the fit of the dress, she was a little worried about how the ton were going to react to the sight of an unmarried lady in such a bold gown.

While the men wouldn’t protest, the matrons—those women who lived and breathed gossip—would have a field day labeling her wild and untamed. An absolute wanton.

That was why she was unsure of the Duke’s intentions. He had been under the ton’s scrutiny for longer than she had, attending their events and watching scandals rise and fall, so he was in the best position to understand the kind of attention this style of dress might attract.

Of course, she loved it and felt beautiful in it, but that was immaterial to public opinion, which derived pervasive joy from tearing daring young ladies apart.

That was why she had to be sure of his intentions. He was a self-proclaimed expert on women’s fashion, after all. This was the excuse she gave herself while she donned the dress, before throwing her coat over her shoulders and sneaking out of her chambers under the cover of darkness, taking care to not wake Diana who was sharing the chamber with her.

When she stepped up to the giant doors of his own chambers, she was surprised to find that they were unlocked and ajar, sliding fully open at the turn of the knob. The reason for that oversight became clearer when she stepped in and saw the elderly valet seated close to the door, fast asleep.

Thanking the good Lord for small mercies, she crept past him and closed the door gently behind her. Then, she crept past, heading towards the door at the far wall hoping it was the bedroom since the rooms in the estate ought to mirror each other. She was surprised to find it open as well, as if he was waiting for her.

The room was dimly lit when she stepped inside, her eyes gradually adjusting to the light as she made out Richard’s figure facing the window. He seemed to be gazing out.

He was dressed only in his smalls. His chest was bare, his skin glittering in the moonlight. Shirtless, the Duke bore little resemblance to other noblemen. The muscles in his back flexed as he moved slightly. His exposed calves were also muscular and peppered with hairs.

Even watching him from the back, the man was potent and attractive in a dangerous way.

For a moment, Selina completely forgot her reason for this nocturnal visit to his room.

“I always knew you were bold, My Lady. However, I didn’t think you were this bold,” he said in a low voice, not bothering to turn to look at her.

“What makes you think so?” Selina asked, her mouth dry.

“No unmarried woman who values her reputation would run the risk of being seen entering or exiting a bachelor’s room. But here you are, unafraid.”

“I apologize if I do not fit your expectations for an unmarried lady. Believe me, I would not be here if it wasn’t important.”

“Pray tell, what is so important that you would take such a risk?” he said, turning to face her, his arms folded over his chest.

“It is about the dress,” she began haltingly.

“What is wrong with it? I thought dresses from Gracie’s were the height of fashion,” he said, a confused look briefly crossing his face.

“It might be the height of fashion, but it is not particularly good for an unmarried lady like myself.”

“Why?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. “Perhaps I need to see the dress to understand what you mean.”

In answer, she untied the cloak, allowing it to pool on the floor around her to reveal her emerald-green dress.

For a moment, Richard seemed to have lost the power of speech as he stared at her in surprise and something that resembled awe.

“Your Grace?” she called.

Clearing his throat slightly, he replied, “I think you look ravishing, My Lady. I fail to see the problem.”

“It is scandalous,” she said, gesturing towards her chest.

“How so?” Richard asked, a mischievous smile curving his lips.

“The bodice is cut too low. The dress is too fitted,” she said slowly as if he was dim-witted. “It is unseemly for an unmarried lady to wear it.”

“You, my dear, are not a debutante, and therefore you are not required to affect purity. Besides, it is a well-known fact that men are visual creatures and are moved by what they see. So, this might help in your hunt for a suitor.”

“I would never be comfortable wearing this dress. I do not believe I could wear it to tomorrow’s ball.”

“Truly?” he said, pushing off the window ledge and taking halting steps towards her, driving her backward. “You are not comfortable wearing a dress you consider scandalous to a ball, but you are comfortable wearing such a dress to a bachelor’s room?”

He kept coming closer until she could feel the warmth of his breath on her face, his eyes burning with intense emotion.

“I bought the dress for you, and you appear in my bedroom almost as if you want me to remove it,” he said, pulling the sleeve of her gown down so that her right shoulder was bared.

“Richard,” she said in a small voice, “you know this is not the reason I came here.”

“I beg to differ, My Lady,” he said with a laugh. “You are no blushing innocent who does not know what it means to visit a bachelor in his rooms.”

This was a version of Richard that Selina could not remember meeting. He was laughing, but instead of the sound being reassuring, it sparked equal parts fear and excitement in her chest. This Richard was dangerous and unpredictable, and she had to be careful if she wished to escape him in one piece.

“Richard…” she said, staring into eyes that were so dilated they appeared black. “This is dangerous. Please let me go.”

In answer, the Duke let out a dark chuckle, and Selina realized that she was in more trouble than she had bargained for.

“Dangerous for whom, My Lady?” Richard asked darkly. “You or me? You, My Lady, seem to have a liking for danger and a strain of recklessness that runs in your body as sure as your blood.” He cupped her face in his hands. “I have fought so hard and for so long to stay away from you. Fighting my beastly urges, staying away to keep you safe. But do you appreciate it?” he spoke in a low, dark tone. “No, you do not. You tempt me till I’m out of my mind with want. Perhaps you will understand better if you get burnt by the heated fantasies that have plagued me in recent days.”

Sliding a hand around her waist, he dragged her closer, her body flush against his so that he was aware of the succulent softness of her that drove his arousal to greater heights. Her eyes widened in surprise, and he studied her for any sign of protest before slanting his mouth over hers in a kiss.

The kiss was a revelation, a far cry from his fantasies. She tasted sweet, like apples she might have had at dinner. She was soft, and he found himself nibbling on her lips, laving them with his tongue until she opened her mouth to allow him inside. The kiss turned wild as their tongues fought for dominance, the drugging effect making him lose his hold on his self-restraint.

He dragged her even closer, running his hands down her body and cupping her breasts in a way that made her moan in pleasure.

He needed more. In no time, he was tugging at her dress, desperate to have access to the smooth softness of her skin. He had pulled down the sleeves and was about to unfasten her bodice when he was dragged out of his lustful haze by the sound of something falling over.

He immediately let go, a feeling of disgust overtaking him. Were it not for that noise, he might be ravishing her now, taking from her what wasn’t his when he knew he could offer her nothing in return.

He had allowed his self-control to slip and had almost committed an unforgettable offense as a consequence. Distantly, he could hear Selina refastening her dress, but he was too ashamed to look at her and the evidence of what he had nearly done.

Taking a deep breath, he turned to her. “Selina… I…” he began.

“Please, do not apologize. It would make the situation even worse than it is,” she replied stiffly.

It was meaningless to apologize when there was ample chance that it might happen again. The only other way to make sure it did not happen again was unpleasant, but it seemed to be the best solution.

“I do not mean to apologize,” he said, keeping his expression bland. “I did it to teach you a lesson about the consequences of reckless behavior. I hope that you have learned well and will refrain from visiting me at odd hours of the night.”

“I will make sure to take your advice to heart, Your Grace,” she returned in a voice as frosty as ice. “I might have made this mistake once. I will make sure never to repeat it.”

With that, she swept out of the room, leaving an aching sensation in his chest.

It might have been the best solution, but it had not come without its measure of pain.