Read A Duchess in the Dark for Free Online Page A

but Edward—”
    Ashton pushed off the desk and stood toe to toe with her. “Edward,” he growled. “You speak of Edward loving you, but does he know you, Daphne, truly? Does he know you’re deathly afraid of horses, or that you loathe dancing? Does he know you prefer coffee over tea and brandy over wine? Does he know you blush when you lie?”
    She blinked up at him, her brows drawn together. “You remembered all those things about me?”
    He remembered every little facet of her, every detail that set her apart. Over the years, he’d watched her, intrigued, never allowing himself to feel anything more.
    Her gaze searched his face and a faint smile curved her lips. “How did you know I prefer brandy?”
    “You steal sips from James’ glass when you think no one is looking.”
    She laughed. “You are very observant.”
    He cupped her chin in his hand and brushed his thumb over her plump lower lip. She deserved so much more than Wallingford. She deserved a man who would worship her, a man who would dedicate himself to her happiness. “Only when it comes to you.”
    She sobered a little, her gaze dropping to his lips before darting away. “I should leave you to your work. Someone is liable to catch us alone and make a fuss about it.”
    He dropped his hand and his gaze fell to the book clutched to her chest. “First tell me, what are you reading?”
    What books did she enjoy? He’d buy her an entire library of them.
    Clutching the book tighter, she straightened her spine. “Um, just a book of poetry.”
    Something in the way she stiffened, suddenly uncomfortable, piqued his interest.
    “Interesting. I thought you hated the genre.” He reached out and plucked the book from her hand. She lunged for it, but he held it up, just out of her reach.
    “That’s mine.” She pressed her sweet curves against the length of his body, straining to retrieve the volume. “Give it back.”
    Heat instantly swept through him, fierce and potent. The feel of her soft curves, the warmth of her breath on his neck, nearly undid him. How easy it would be to lock the door and strip every stitch of clothing off her body. He’d explore her with his mouth again, languidly, taking time to memorize every dip and freckle. Only after he’d wrung every last moan from her body would he release her.
    Finally, she stepped back and plopped herself into a brown velvet wing chair. “You’re a cad.”
    He sat on the edge of the desk and read the title. Fanny Hill , first edition. Astounding. “ Poetry , is it?”
    She glared. “I’d like it back, if you please.” She held her delicate hand out. He ignored it and she let out a sharp breath. “You look perplexed, my lord. Have I managed to shock you?”
    He considered her for a moment, leaning against the desk again. “I’m only wondering how such a well-bred lady is acquainted with a book that was banned for its vulgarity some sixty years ago.”
    She shrugged. “I suppose you could say it was my introduction to womanhood. On my seventeenth birthday, it appeared on my nightstand. My mother’s way of educating me, I suppose.” A faint smile touched her lips. “Or perhaps it was a warning against the opposite sex. She wasn’t a woman who spoke openly about such matters.”
    “What’s it doing in the library?”
    “Well, I can’t keep it in my room for a servant to find, now, can I? If it’s in here and someone runs across it, they’ll assume its James’s book. Heaven knows it isn’t the only vulgar book he owns.”
    Clever. “And your mother, did she succeed in frightening you off men?”
    Another long pause, then, “I’m afraid it merely piqued my curiosity.” She looked up at him. “Do you suppose that’s wrong?”
    Suddenly, his cravat felt uncomfortably tight, as though the air or his throat had thickened. She glanced at him in that innocently alluring way, blue eyes sparkling with life, lips pressed into a firm line. What he would do to taste those lips again.
    “No,