The Duke's Wife (The Three Mrs #3) - Jess Michaels Page 0,82

Perhaps they have been for a long time.”

She caught her breath at that, but did not declare it untrue, so he continued, “I mean that you are so intelligent it makes me want to be more so. I mean that you are so kind and nonjudgmental, you make me want to be the same. I want to be clear: you make my life better.”

Her breath was coming short now, her fingers clenched against her lap, tears gathered in her eyes. He could see she was on the edge of running because what he said was too meaningful, too intimate. So he switched tactics.

“Also, you are remarkable in bed.”

That worked. She barked out a laugh of surprise, the tension gone from her face in a moment. Then she looked at him, playful sensuality on her face.

“Remarkable in bed, but what about not in bed?” she said. “Am I not remarkable in your study against the desk or on the settee in the parlor?”

“You were very remarkable on the settee in the parlor not that many weeks ago,” he said, massaging her thigh through her gown. Her breath caught and she ground against him slightly. “Though I wouldn’t want to try that one again until my nosy sister is out of the house.”

“Good plan,” Abigail whispered.

“However, if we lock the door, I think I would very much like to test just how remarkable you are against the desk. Or the wall. Or on the rug in front of the fire.”

She bent her head and kissed him deeply. Her fingers slid into his hair, and he felt all the desire pulsing in her. It was all a way to distract him, of course. To make space from the emotional connection she so feared. But he didn’t mind. After all, having her body was just another way he told her he loved her.

And one day, he would get to say those very words as he slid home inside of her. He knew it.

Chapter 22

Abigail smiled as her maid left the room, but the expression fell as she turned her attention back to her image in the mirror. Tonight she would host her first ball as Duchess of Gilmore. Tonight this house would fill with people who had once been her betters, people who wanted to see her fail. Of course, it would also fill with friends, old and new, but she couldn’t help but be nervous.

She made a move toward the door to begin her day and all the final preparations there still were to manage when there was a knock. She halted and said, “Come in.”

She was surprised when Ophelia stepped into the chamber. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Ophelia. Oh, your hair looks very pretty.”

Ophelia turned her head so Abigail could see the back and the complicated twists and turns of her blonde locks. “Do you like it? I’m trying something to see if it would work for the ball tonight.”

Abigail came closer and turned her head to look closer. “It’s divine. I think it will be perfect for tonight.”

“Good.” Ophelia let out a sigh. “I admit, I’m nervous. Isn’t that funny? After attending so many balls and parties. I still find myself standing in front of my wardrobe, fighting with myself over gowns and hair.”

“You’ll do wonderfully, as you always do,” Abigail assured her. She wanted to take Ophelia’s hand as she did it, but she held back. Although the waters between them had warmed considerably in the past few days, she didn’t want to push too hard.

“Do you think you might…come look with me?” Ophelia asked. “You have a wonderful sense of style and I swear I’ve debated this until my poor maid, Laura, has started to block it all out to keep herself from going mad. I need a fresh set of eyes.”

Abigail drew back. This was the first time Ophelia had reached out to her. She certainly wasn’t going to waste the opportunity provided here. Not when their getting along meant so much to Nathan.

“Of course,” Abigail said, motioning for Ophelia to lead them. They walked down the hall together in a not entirely comfortable silence, and then Ophelia led her into her chamber.

Abigail looked around briefly. Ophelia’s bright, sometimes chaotic personality was reflected in how clothing and items were somewhat strewn across the chamber. Books were stacked on the end table, brushes and combs and jewelry were spread across the dressing table.

“Here are the options,” Ophelia said, drawing Abigail’s attention to two gowns that were hanging along the front