Duke of Dishonor Read online

He removed her skirts, and then her petticoats, and her corset.

  She sat on the bed and he watched as she wiggled her pantaloons and stockings down from under her chemise.

  When she stood in nothing but the sheer garment, her pretty feet, ankles, calves, and arms exposed to his view, she gave him a stern glare. “Turn around.”

  He grinned but did as she bid. “You don’t want me to bathe you?”

  “I don’t know,” she answered. “But I’ll climb into the tub with some measure of privacy.”

  He heard the rustle of fabric and the sound of the water. Then she began to soap. He could hear the scrubbing and the lather. After a few minutes had passed and he was warring with himself whether or not to peek, she called out, “You may turn around.”

  He did, to find her folded into the tub. The water, cloudy with soap, came to just above her nipples, exposing the top of her wet breasts and chest.

  Tendrils of her hair were wet and her cheeks rosy.

  Desire coursed through him as he began to remove his coat.

  His cravat came next. And then his shirt.

  When he was bare to the waist, he knelt beside the tub. “Lean forward.”

  “What are you going to do?” she asked, her voice breathless.

  “I’m going to wash your back, love.” He’d like to wash every inch of her, but he’d settle for that. For now. The next time he gave her a bath, which would be soon, he’d soap up every inch of her.

  She did as he bid and lightly scrubbed, his hands touching every inch of her supple flesh.

  When he was done, he reached for a large blanket and stood, holding it up to wrap her.

  Color flushed her face, but she did as he’d silently asked, stepping from the water.

  And then he quickly shed the rest of his clothes.

  “What are you doing?” she gasped, her eyes all over his body.

  “I’m getting in the tub. I want to be clean for my wife.”

  He saw her gaze slide down him, lingering on his manhood. She nibbled at her lip, a sure sign she was nervous.

  He understood. He was a large man, and his male parts were suited to his size. He slid into the tub, quickly washing.

  To his surprise, she crossed over to him, having tucked the blanket under her arms and tucking it closed. “Hand me the soap and I’ll do your back too.”

  He raised a brow but did as she bid. And when her hands began to slide over his body, he nearly groaned in pleasure.

  Her touch was gentle, her hand sliding over him in a rhythmic touch that left him aching. “Done,” she said as she leaned away. “And you were right. Marriage will be very intimate indeed.”

  “We do have one problem,” he quipped with a grin.

  “What is it?” she asked, leaning back.

  His grin turned wicked. “We’ve only got the one bath blanket and you’re wearing it.”

  Her mouth formed a small O as she leaned back on her heels. “Oh dear,” she answered. “I could go dress and—”

  He reached out of the tub and gave the spot where she’d folded one end into the other a gentle tug. “Or…”

  Her brows drew up as she automatically held the blanket about her. “Brandon,” her voice was breathy. Beneath his hand he could feel the gentle beat of her heart.

  “There is nothing to be afraid of, love. I will know every inch of you within a week. You are the love of my life, and I don’t want a secret between us. Ever.”

  That seemed to convince her, and she stood, loosening the large cloth and pulling it from her body, placing it in his outstretched hand.

  She stood before him without a stitch on and, honestly, she stole his words, his air, his thoughts.

  “You are more beautiful than I ever imagined.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Emily could not believe what she’d just done.

  At first she felt afraid, and her hands flitted up to cover her body.

  But then, as his words sunk in, as his eyes grew dark with hunger, she felt…powerful.

  Confident.

  In control.

  She gasped in a breath. She hadn’t known it would be like this. That his desire for her would make her feel so much stronger.

  He stood too and stepped from the tub, his body just inches from hers as he toweled off his large frame and then allowed the cloth to drop to the floor.

  She allowed herself to once again look at every bit of him. From the broad shoulders that rippled with muscles, to his lean arms, down his rippling chest, to his lean abdomen, he was glorious.

  She lifted a hand then and touched his collarbone, tracing the line of it and then allowed her hand to dip lower through the damp hair on his chest.

  In answer, he reached for her hair and began to pull the pins one by one. It was an act he’d completed before, even more intimate now, but it reminded her.

  He’d been caring for her all along.

  “Brandon,” she said as she moved a bit closer. Close enough to feel his heat on her cooling body. “I’m cold.”

  “Let me warm you,” he replied, snaking an arm about her waist and pulling her to him until she was nestled in his heat.

  His other hand kept working the pins until her hair tumbled down her back.

  He worked his hands into the strands, combing his fingers through them. “I love your hair.”

  “Brown,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “If you read romantic stories the women are almost always blonde, unless they have flaming locks of red hair.”

  He tsked and then kissed the crown of her head. “It has both blonde and red when the sun catches the strands. What’s more, it’s like silk, so smooth, soft, and shiny. It’s glorious.”

  The rougher feel of his skin, the hair on his chest rubbed against her causing little tendrils of pleasure to dance along her skin. “I like the color of yours. It’s so dark, it’s near black.”

  He bent down and kissed her temple, then her cheek, and the corner of her mouth. “I hope we have a whole passel of daughters that look just like their mama.”

  And then he lifted her into his arms and carried her the short distance to the bed. “You should spend more time around my sisters before you wish for such a thing.”

  Slowly, he set her down, his weight settling on top of hers. He was heavy but somehow that only added to her feeling of well-being in his arms. “I’ve watched your sisters enough to know that their love is fierce and that together, you can weather any storm. I am honored and humbled to be part of that family. Thank you, Emily, my love.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured back. “For being my knight in shining armor and a man whom I can really love.”

  He slid his hand down her body, feeling the rise of her breasts, the flat of her abdomen, the juncture between her thighs. And as his fingers slipped over her slick skin she gasped, pressing against his hand.

  He kissed her then, long and deep as he repeated the movement against her most sensitive flesh.

  She moved with him, her body matching his stroke for stroke.

  He could feel the tension building in her body as he increased the tempo. She twisted, her hands grasping at his shoulders until her pleasure broke. He felt her shatter, her moans of pleasure filling his ears.

  Brandon slowed his movement, as her body turned to jelly underneath his. He couldn’t help the small smile of satisfaction that played at his mouth as he moved his hand away, allowing the tip of his manhood to press into her soft, slick folds.

  Her fingers threaded into his hair. “That was…”

  “Wonderful,” he replied as he slid inside her just a bit.

  He felt her tense a bit. “Brandon.” She tugged at his hair. “Wait.”

  He stilled. He’d do whatever she asked, but had she changed her mind? Inside, he died a bit to think it.

  Emily looked up into the hazel depths of his eyes.

  She’d needed to say these words one more time before they continued. “I love you.”

  One of his eyes squinted. “Tha
t is why we stopped? I was worried.”

  “Apologies,” she answered, brushing his hair back from his face. “I’ve waited too long to say those words. I just want to repeat them over and over.”

  He kissed her. “I love you too. And say the words as many times as you wish, I’ll never tire of hearing them.”

  And then he pushed just a bit deeper into her channel.

  She was wet but still tight for his large member, and he felt her stretching to accommodate him. She tensed and he knew he needed to keep her talking, distract her. Tension would only make it hurt more.

  So he began to stroke her face, kissing a trail along her skin. “The first time I saw you, you were holding Abigail as she cried.”

  Emily chuckled. “That could be one of many a time. She is rather prone to tears.”

  “It was the day the groom left,” he told her, realizing that he may be making a mistake in sharing this particular memory.

  She looked into his eyes. “You saw that.”

  He nodded. “It was the first time I truly questioned my plan. Because I could see the pain it caused you and because…” He paused.

  Her hands skimmed down his back and then rested on his backside, encouraging him a bit deeper inside. “Tell me.”

  “Because I also realized that I might love you. You were so tender, kind, and patient in that moment, and you must have been hurting too, Emily. I’ve never had that sort of affection. Not in my entire life and…”

  She encouraged him a bit deeper and he felt her maidenhead break, her body stiffening from the pain. “Keep talking,” she whispered.

  “I didn’t want to be distracted from my goal. But I think I fell in love at that very moment.”

  She gasped and he froze, worried he was hurting her even as her hand tapped on his derriere. “You’re meeting with the king. Tomorrow.”

  He shook his head. “That doesn’t matter.”

  “What do you mean it doesn’t matter?” She was hitting with more insistency. He didn’t quite know how to tell her the action was rather…exciting. “We have to go back. It’s important.”

  He shook his head. “Emily, you are more important. I’ve made this decision. Your safety will come first always.”

  She kissed him then as he slid out of her and then back in. He moved in a slow rhythm, giving her body time to adjust to him.

  When her body began to meet his thrusts, he picked up the pace, pleasure rippling through him.

  She locked her arms about his neck, as her legs tightened over his, and he felt the moment pleasure rocked through her. He couldn’t hold back any longer and his own finish washed over him.

  They stayed entangled together for several more minutes, kissing until he finally slipped from her body.

  She pushed back further into the mattress as she stared into his eyes. “I appreciate what you’ve done. Choosing me over your reputation in society.”

  “I’m glad,” he answered.

  “But we have to go back.”

  “Bash is going to explain everything to our sovereign leader.”

  She shook her head. “I’ll stay on the ship. Or you can bring me to Bash’s in the cover of night. But we have to go back. I won’t be afraid anymore and I won’t run. We’re going to restore your title and then we’ll face down these men. Together.”

  He pressed his mouth into a thin line. “Em.”

  She loved the endearment on his lips, and she might have basked in it, but she had something important to say now. “I can do this.”

  He looked down into her eyes. “I’ve never doubted you. I was there when you rushed out of a carriage and took a man down with the door, remember?”

  Pleasure flowed through her. “I need to do this for you. I need to prove that I’ll put you first and that I’m strong enough to stand next to you.”

  “It’s proven. Now let’s go back. You’re a duke and we’ll claim your rightful place in society. Mine too.” Then she started pushing on his very large shoulders.

  He conceded. Rolling off her and pulling them both to standing. “Fine,” he answered. “You win. Back to London we go.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  An hour later Brandon stood on the deck as the boat tacked to the left, making the mid-ocean turn. Emily was tucked against his side, looking quite warm and very satisfied as she snuggled deeper into his coat.

  The captain had done a great deal of rumbling about his shipments that were going to be late, but in the end, he’d conceded.

  Without a stop and with good wind, they’d make it back to London in the early hours of the morning. Which gave him time to decide what to do. He couldn’t warn Bash they were coming.

  And, depending on how many men were still uncaptured, Bash’s home could be watched.

  Which made this all the trickier.

  He grimaced down at his bride.

  What they’d just done had been…magical. Emotional and physical satisfaction had coalesced in a perfect symphony leaving him spent and wanting and…in love.

  They should be in his cabin, still locked in an embrace. Exploring one another… He stopped.

  Thinking about it did not change the fact that they were now on deck as he issued commands.

  If the winds were with them, he’d take Emily below deck again and…

  “Ship dead ahead,” the lookout in the mast called.

  Brandon straightened, pulling Emily closer. “What?”

  But even as the words left his mouth, he just caught sight of the mast in the distance.

  The captain up beside him. “Bloody Christ.” He spit over the rail. “Coincidence or foul?”

  He grimaced. He’d like to believe coincidence. But his gut was saying something different. “We left London because we were attacked.”

  The captain spat again. “Man your battle stations, men.”

  “Battle stations,” Emily said next to him, her voice shaking. “What does that mean?”

  “It means we’re preparing for the possibility that the other ship isn’t friendly.”

  “You think they’ll attack?” Emily pressed into his side. “But you must see other ships all the time.”

  “Aye,” the captain replied. “But not riding in our wake just out of sight.”

  The ship drew closer and Brandon squinted to see the details.

  He was just about to suggest Emily return below when he saw the ball of fire explode from the deck of the other boat.

  He’d pushed Emily down before the noise reached them, cradling her body against his on the hard deck. The ball sailed wide of the ship.

  “Make ready to return fire,” the captain boomed, even as Brandon rose again, pulling Emily with him. He swung her into his arms and started for the hatch.

  “What’s happening?” Emily gasped as her hands came around his neck.

  “Well,” he grimaced as he climbed down the ship’s ladder with her in his arms. “My guess is our merry band of thieves is following either you or me.”

  She started in fear and he held her closer.

  He pressed his cheek to the top of her head as he reached his cabin. Tossing the door open, he set her down. “Lock the door behind me and don’t open it for anyone.”

  “Brandon,” she gasped as a cannon fired from the Return, shaking the entire ship with its force.

  He wanted to tell her that he’d never allow anything bad to happen to her. But in this moment, he drew in a shuddering breath. His attempt to out these criminals and bring them to justice might just be their downfall.

  “I have to go, love.” He pulled her tight to him and kissed her mouth, full and sweet. “Stay here and stay safe.”

  She clung to him for a second or two and then stepped back. “Be careful.”

  He nodded and then turned, even as he heard the door close and the lock click.

  And then he was back on the deck.

  Captain James turned to him. “We’ve hit their mast.” The man gave him a wide grin. “All those drills you allowed us
to run have paid off. We’re hanging back so that they can’t hit us with any more fire. The question is what do you want to do? Let them sit adrift or board and fight?”

  He drew in a long breath. He wanted to fight. But he had more than himself to consider. “There are women on board.”

  Captain James gave a quick nod. “True. If we draw any closer, we risk catching fire from their cannon.”

  “But I ran once to protect Emily…”

  Jack gave a quick nod. “And here they are.”

  “Can you sink them?”

  Jack gave him a large smile. “I can. And might I just say, that’s my kind of plan.”

  He chuckled. “My guess is you’ll enjoy it quite a bit more than conducting a wedding?”

  “Indeed,” he chuckled, raising his arm to signal they fire again. “Push just a bit closer, lads. We’re gonna put that boat on the bottom.”

  The men let out a cheer as the sails raised again at the same time the cannon fired.

  Seven more balls were launched, five hitting the ship. Two fired back.

  They did sustain damage to the port side, but they could sail. And when they watched two dinghies being lowered into open ocean, they knew they’d won. A cheer rose up from the sailors on board the Return.

  “Now,” he gave Captain Jack a look. “It’s my turn for some action. Capture the men on board those ships. I want some answers.”

  Captain Jack gave a single nod. “Get ready to take prisoners on board.”

  Brandon was gone for hours. Night fell and the inside of the cabin turned black. Emily had heard the entire battle.

  The cannons, the capture, and then silence.

  But her husband had not returned.

  She tried not to worry.

  And she’d considered leaving the cabin a half dozen times. But in the end, she’d stayed. She’d paced the length of the tiny room a thousand times or more when a knock finally sounded at the door.

  “Yes?” she called.

  “It’s me,” Brandon called from the other side.

  Tendrils of relief flowed through her. She ran to the door, flicking open the lock, and throwing open the door.