Read Online Sins of a Wicked Duke by Sophie Jordan - Free Book Online

soheavy .”
    Setting the vase upon the center of the marble-topped table, Fallon inwardly sighed. What choice did she have? A red-blooded man wouldnever ignore an attractive woman. Especially one in need of help—however feigned. And Fallon must, foremost, appear as a man. Squaring her shoulders, she faced the maid.
    Nancy smiled brightly.
    Fallon cringed.
    Easing the bucket down, the girl sent a reproachful glance up the looming stairs. Her lips pulled into a pretty pout. “It’s all those dreadful steps.” Placing both hands on her hips, she stretched, straining her breasts against the front of her dress.
    Fallon stifled a snort. She had known girls like Nancy all her life—those who used their wiles to entice others to do their work. Fallon never dared. Sooner or later payment was expected. Either young Nancy was too naïve to know that or she was willing to deliver when the time came.
    Swallowing down an epithet, Fallon stepped forward and took the bucket, committed to playing her part to the fullest, even if it meant breakingher back. “Allow me.”
    Nancy clapped her hands before her considerable bosom. “Oh, I couldn’t let you—”
    Dipping her head, Fallon rolled her eyes where Nancy could not see. “I insist. It’s much too heavy for you.”
    “Oh, what a gentleman,” Nancy gushed. Stepping forward, she squeezed Fallon’s arm, her hand lingering.
    “Where shall I take this?”
    “The master’s rooms. I’m responsible for supplying fresh coal there twice daily.”
    Fallon nodded, hoping that Nancy did not expect her to carry a bucket upstairs for her twice every day.
    Tossing a weak smile at the girl, Fallon headed up the steps with the bucket. She walked carefully down the corridor, mindful not to spill any coals on the rich, gold-threaded runner. At the master’s door, she knocked briskly. She had worked in the kitchens, running errands for Cook most of the morning and did not know whether the duke was in residence. Rapping again, she waited several moments more. No response. Slowly, she opened the door and stepped within the shadowed chamber. The hush of the room struck her as almost reverent, almost as though she stepped inside a church’s hallowed interior. Absurd considering the man who occupied the space doubtlessly conducted all manner of vice within its walls.
    With the drapes drawn, it might well have been midnight. Only a bare slit of light crept from between the drapes. Red and orange embers glowed from the grate and she hastened in that direction, feeling very much an intruder.
    She scanned the dark and musty chamber as she walked—the veritable lion’s den. Only the lion was out, she reassured herself. A massive four-poster with a rumpled white coverlet sat against one wall. She blinked and stopped at the sight of it.White? Virginal and pure as a dove’s breast. Somehow she expected the demon duke to sleep shrouded in scarlet sheets. Or black. She could well envision him there. The wicked handsome beast of a man at love play with one of his many paramours. A tightness grew in the center of her chest at the thought.
    Thanks to him, she possessed a fairly good idea of what that entailed. At least at the beginning. In her mind, she saw that broad hand lifting a breast toward his lips, holding it, squeezing. Unfortunately, in her mind that breast resembled hers. Stinging heat crept up her neck. Her belly clenched, twisted. She pressed a hand against her stomach.
    She shifted her gaze from the imposing bed…and shoved the image of the demon duke tangled amid those sheets—withher —from her head.
    Strange that no one had tidied the bed yet. The chamber’s furnishings, while appropriately opulent for the bedchamber of a duke, seemed at odds with the duke himself. While it was exactly the type of bedchamber she imagined a highborn lord to occupy, it wasn’thim . He did not adorn himself richly as a duke of the realm might, but rather—when he wore clothes at all—attired himself