Waking Up With the Duke Read Free

he saw no point in being with her. But sometimes she just needed to be held, and when those moments came, she slipped into his bed.
    She rubbed her feet against his thin calf. “I’m sorry. My feet are cold.”
    “Doesn’t matter. I can’t feel them.”
    He said it without emotion, as though it was more than his lower body that had no sensation, as though his very soul had become paralyzed as well. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard him laugh. His now rare smiles always contained a hint of sadness. But then she supposed hers did as well.
    “You seem rather quiet and melancholy tonight,” she said softly. “Shall I cancel the house party?”
    “No, no, absolutely not. It will serve us well to have visitors.”
    He began to absently stroke her arm. She closed her eyes and relished the gentle caress, fighting back the guilt because sometimes it was difficult to be content with only this.
    “Jayne?”
    “Hmmm?”
    “I was talking with Ainsley earlier—”
    “Well, I should hope so, since you wanted him to arrive before any of our other guests.”
    “I appreciate your indulgence.” He kissed the top of her head. Her stomach tightened. How she wanted to turn her face up toward him and have him kiss her. Truly kiss her. The way he once had. As though his life had depended on it. But knowing he couldn’t finish what they might begin stopped her cold. It was too painful for both of them to be reminded of what they’d never again have, so she pretended she no longer yearned for it.
    “Be that as it may,” he said after a time, “I was thinking . . . he could get you with child.”
    She froze, her lungs not even working to draw in air. She was surprised her heart continued to pound. She knew it did because she could hear the blood rushing, roaring between her ears. “Are you . . . you can’t be . . . are you suggesting I take him as my lover?”
    “For a short time, yes.”
    She shoved herself to a sitting position and glared at him, for all the good it did with the shadows hiding the details of their features. “Have you gone daft?”
    “No, I don’t believe so.”
    “Well, I must wholeheartedly disagree.” She quickly scrambled out of the bed, nearly tripping in her haste to escape—as though distance could lessen the abhorrence of the words he’d uttered. “If I wanted a lover, I’d choose him myself, and he certainly wouldn’t be Ainsley.”
    “Be honest here, Jayne. Your unquestionable loyalty will prevent you from ever taking a lover.”
    “Then why would you even suggest—”
    “Because there would be no guilt.”
    “And how, pray tell, did you deduce that utter nonsense?”
    “Because you don’t fancy him at all, so it wouldn’t be as though you were truly betraying me.”
    “You have gone daft.” She headed for the door—
    “Jayne? Please, don’t go. Please, hear me out.”
    Stopping, she glanced over her shoulder to see his arm extended, his hand reaching for her in the shadows of the night. She could win any argument with him by simply leaving the room. It wasn’t fair to him, and so they never argued. But this? This was preposterous.
    “Please, Jayne.”
    His voice was rough with his need for her to remain. Unfair. Unfair of him to compel her to stay, knowing guilt would eat at her if she walked away when he couldn’t.
    She was trembling with anger and disgust at his suggestion regarding Ainsley, yet still she cautiously made her way back to Walfort. She clambered onto the bed, took his hand and held it in her lap, her legs tucked beneath her. She refused to look at him, and instead studied the silhouette of their joined hands.
    “The fact that you think so little of him is what makes my plan so brilliant,” he said quietly. “It is not as though you will be truly betraying me. Your heart will remain mine.”
    “And my body his.” She couldn’t prevent the cutting words from slicing between them. What passed between a man and a woman beneath the