Duke of Dishonor by Tammy Andresen (books for 9th graders .txt) 📕

to brush a stray lock of hair away from her face. It slipped through his fingers like the finest silk. He wanted to bury his hands in her mass of hair. Hell, he wanted those locks spread across his chest like a curtain. He didn’t deserve them, though, that was for certain. “What are you doing sleeping here? I presume His Grace has given you a room with a bed?”

She stretched and the movement made his manhood thicken and lengthen. The woman wasn’t attempting to be seductive. She just…she was wreaking havoc on him.

“He has,” she murmured. “I was worried about you and I couldn’t sleep.”

He did drop down to a knee then. He wasn’t certain why. The words touched him deep inside, but surely he wasn’t suffering from weak knees? Likely he just wanted to study her face to assess the truth. “I am not used to people worrying after me.”

She rolled onto her back, leaving her body even more open to him than she’d been before. His hand itched to touch her. “You jest. You’re a handsome duke…” Her words tapered off and even in the dim light, color flamed in her cheeks.

He ran a knuckle over her cheekbone, feeling the heat. Despite himself he chuckled. “I’m a duke in exile. That makes me significantly less popular.”

She tilted her head to stare up at him. “I need to tell you something.”

Unease made his back straighten. She was not prone to drama, he’d seen it time and time again. She soothed those around her rather than excited. “What is it?”

“Bash, the Duke of Devonhall, thinks that you should offer for my hand since we were alone.” She swallowed and then pushed up onto her elbows.

The gesture both brought her bosom into stark attention, which was rather ample for a woman of her size, and brought her full mouth closer to his. Despite the alluring image in front of him, he frowned. “He thinks that, does he?”

She shook her head, her braid sliding across her chest. “You shouldn’t be punished for rescuing me.”

Now that was the most shocking thing she’d said since he’d met her. “Punished?” He did touch her then. He reached out and ran a hand from the crown of her head and along her braid. He’d love to undo that hair, fan it out. “Marriage to you would not be a punishment.” He shook his head. Quite the contrary, it would be a detriment to her. She deserved a man who could rush to her aid without the demons of his past driving him in another direction.

Color rose in her face again. “I…” she started and then she scooted into a full sit, moving away from him. “You can’t actually want…” Her face turned toward the cushions. “I’m not even from the peerage.”

He shook his head. “I’ve held my title by the thinnest thread. At this point, I am more concerned about reinstating my position.”

“Surely a strong match with a good family would do far better for you than I would?”

He raised his brows. Did she not want to marry him? He supposed he didn’t blame her. She knew that he’d nearly lost her by pursuing his investigations first. He was disgraced and despite his efforts, might remain so. He wasn’t exactly a catch, was he? “You would provide many advantages, Emily. Unfortunately—”

He saw her face crumble in pain at the single word, but a deeper voice was the one that answered. “I agree. Which is why I think we should talk in my study. Emily, you should see yourself off to bed.”

He turned. The Duke of Devonhall stood in the doorway. Blast. He’d been about to tell her despite all her charming attributes, he could not marry her. Would he tell her of his past? About Ewan? He’d kept her cousin from coming to their rescue. A sin he would surely be punished for.

He wouldn’t have the chance tonight.

Brandon stood, preparing for whatever Devonhall was about to toss his way. No matter what angle the man was working the two of them seemed to be at odds.

“Oh but…” Emily started. He reached down a hand and took hers, helping her up off the couch. He’d like to lace his fingers through hers and keep her next to him. “Shouldn’t I be part of this conversation too?”

Bash shook his head. “It’s two in the morning. You should get some sleep. It’s been a difficult day.”

She sighed, but her fingers started to slip from his. He grimaced. Why shouldn’t she discuss her own future? And Brandon had more to say to her. “I disagree.”

He didn’t relish the words he had to say but they should come from him.

She stopped moving, looking up at him. There was a question in the crinkle of her eyes, but also a small smile that stole his breath.

“This is my house. Emily is my ward.” Bash straightened, his arms crossing.

Emily looked at her brother-in-law. “Don’t mind him,” she said, turning back to Brandon. “In marrying Isabella, he’s been strapped with four unwed females, only one of which he’s married off, a business that is plagued, and an uncle who was a lunatic. As you well know. But if he seems grumpy, it’s a lot to ask of anyone.”

Bash stole the words from Brandon’s mouth as he looked at his sister-in-law. “You are unfailingly kind and considerate, Emily.”

Brandon squeezed her fingers tighter. Would she end up married out of consideration for the rest of her family? Society’s dictates? Who would that man be? He hated the idea of another man having the right to touch her even if he had no claim to jealousy. “Do you wish to wed now?”

“What?” she asked, her fingers lacing into his.

“You have a choice. What do you pick?”

She shook her head, her tongue darting out to lick her lips.

“She’d choose to marry,” Bash said from the doorway.

“Forgive me, Your Grace.” Brandon frowned at the other man. “But I didn’t ask you.” Brandon could see that Emily was kind