The Duke's Gamble Read Online Free Page A

inspected her after he had helped her remove her shift.
    She had never felt so humiliated in all her life as she stood there, fighting the urge not to cover herself as she stared at the far wall, enduring his examination of her. It had been so quiet in the room that she heard the interruption to his breathing. It was so slight as to be barely noticeable but her eyes had immediately flown to his countenance. He had appeared aloof, almost disinterested, but his eyes.  
    Lord in heaven.  
    A wild intensity burned within the dark depths that had made her heart race and her skin tighten. She saw his eyes lower to the hard points of her nipples and heard him swallow audibly. The humiliation faded, overtaken by an awareness of him that had begun when he had kissed her.
    Bella had held her breath, wondering what he would do next, but to her surprise, he merely held out his hand wordlessly. Once she was settled in the burnished copper tub, he went to a nearby table and fetched a cup of tea. It was the most perfect cup of tea she had ever had, the fragrance delicate and floral. As she drank the milky, unsweetened tea, she felt her ragged nerves begin to settle and her racing heart slow. The anger and mortification still seethed within her, mixed with a healthy dose of nerves, but the emotions had ebbed to some degree. Perhaps it had been his statement that he wouldn’t hurt her or the gentleness of his touch as he had removed her clothes.
    “Are you finished?”
    She started at his voice, seeing that he was once again standing by the side of the tub.
    “Yes.” She held the teacup to him and was proud that her hand shook only slightly. Bella watched as he sat down on a low stool and picked up a cloth. After rubbing some soap on it, he looked directly at her.  
    “I’m going to wash your back,” he announced.  
    She gave a jerky nod, even though she didn’t think he was seeking her permission, and he placed the cloth between her shoulder blades. Bella hugged her knees tightly to her chest as the cloth moved over her back and shoulders and neck. She swallowed a gasp as it dipped under the water to the lower part of her back. His actions were so painfully intimate that the words asking him to stop teetered on the edge of her tongue. Yet there they remained.
    “Lean back.” The rasp in his voice made her skin prickle. It took a long while to dredge up the courage to do as he had ordered but she finally managed to unlock her arms from around her knees. Trembling, she slowly straightened, not daring to meet his eyes. Cool air met her chest and she swallowed, leaning back against the tub. His hand came in to view and she couldn’t help staring at it. It was quintessentially male; broad, with tendons that ran down the back of the hand. His fingers were long and elegant, his fingernails clean and trimmed short. Her eyes trailed up his arm, which was bared by his rolled up shirtsleeve, seeing the tensile strength in the corded muscles.  
    With his other hand, Castor reached into the water and, holding her wrist aloft, began to run the cloth down her arm. Up again, then down the back of her arm. He then began to wash her hand. Bella had never known how sensitive the flesh on her palm was, nor the skin between her fingers. As he stroked the cloth in ever decreasing circles on her palm, she felt an odd tightening in the pit of her stomach. And when he rubbed the cloth between her fingers, it was as if sensations were streaking up her arm to her brain. By the time he had finished with her other hand, she was breathless and trying desperately not to squirm in the cooling bathwater. As if sensing her agitation, the duke stood up and walked over to the fireplace where a kettle hung. He removed it then poured the hot water into a bucket before bringing it over to the tub.  
    “Watch your feet,” he said, pouring the water in.  
    Blessed warmth enveloped her and Bella closed her eyes, feeling the tension in her begin to ease. Then the