Read Online The Grace of a Duke by Linda Rae Sande - Free Book Online Page A

accord) and set her heart to pounding so hard she was sure he could hear that, too. No longer having to pretend her fright, she fell into his arms, not aware until just before she buried her head into his neck that he was nude. The bit of the glow from a lightning strike had illuminated the room as he shot up from the bed, highlighting his broad shoulders, his muscular torso and legs, the dark hair and almost black eyes, and the scars that covered the left side of his body and head. He’d picked her up as if she was a change of clothes, and she’d held on as if her very life had depended on it. Before she could even comprehend what was happening, she was in his bed and pressed against him. The frightened part of her clung to him while the logical side realized, far too late, that he was naked and smelled faintly of sandalwood and tobacco and brandy. And the part of her that was woman was quite aware of his arousal and her own body responding as she pressed against the hardness of his body, as he wrapped his muscular arm around her shoulders, as he murmured soothing words and stroked her hair while she feathered her trembling fingers over his ruined flesh.
    Despite not having any experience in the matter, she might have been able to seduce him, she considered. But his arm around her shoulder had lowered to cover the part of her back where it was still sliced open from her whipping. The pain had shot through her, causing her to wince and bring her entire being back to the here and now. Whatever was I thinking to visit his room? she wondered then, chastising herself for being such a fool. She could have been discovered in his room, and then she’d be ruined!
    At least she’d been able explain herself and to make a graceful exit, she thought. Joshua seemed to believe her fright; it was real, after all. He would have certainly felt her hammering heartbeats against his chest whilst she took comfort in the strong, even pulse of his. And he’d agreed to allow her to join him on his early morning ride.
    Now she just had to develop some fortitude and hide her embarrassment when she met him in the morning.
    Closing her bedchamber door behind her, she took a deep breath. The scent of him was still in her nostrils, still on her dressing gown, still on her nightgown. Surely he felt something for her if she could cause him to be so aroused that his hardened manhood would remained pressed against her belly during their time together. He certainly had that affect on her, she realized, remembering how the feel of him made her entire abdomen flutter with a pleasant sensation, the space between the tops of her thighs turn to liquid heat, her nipples harden into tight buds that strained against the satin of her nightgown. Had he decided to take her virtue, she would have gladly given it to him, propriety be damned. Only after being away from him these last minutes had she noticed the feeling of warmth slowly fading from her torso.
    As she moved carefully toward the bed, the one candle she’d left burning having gone out sometime during her visit to the duke’s room, she kicked something. It skittered a bit, hitting something else while making a tinkling sound. She felt air move through her hair and turned toward the window. The pane had broken, no doubt from a tree limb, leaving shards of glass strewn across the Aubusson carpet. Having no way to relight the candle without going back out to the hallway, she thought it best to wait until morning before ringing for a maid to see to the broken glass.
    Climbing into the large bed, she gingerly settled herself on her side to avoid causing additional pain to her back. It hurt though, a constant reminder of what had happened that awful night when Edward Bingham was left unconscious and immobile.
    Her father’s injury was ruled an accident by the Bow Street Runner who was dispatched to investigate, the man immediately noticing the empty bottle of liquor and the smell of scotch whiskey that