My Dangerous Duke Read Online Free PDF Page B

drummed his fingers on his sword’s hilt in kingly impatience.
    After all, the sooner he finished here, the sooner he could go unwrap his little “present.” His eyes gleamed with anticipation as he permitted himself to think about her briefly. Even now, his instincts were wide-awake with a very male awareness of a woman in his house.
    Waiting for him in his bed.
    He had wanted her gone from the great hall in case stronger measures were needed to remind his unruly tenants of his authority. He did not wish any female to witness his capacity for violence.
    Besides, he did not need the distraction of those beautiful breasts clamoring for his attention. He’d get to know them better soon enough, every silky inch of her.
    His people knew what he liked; he was decidedly pleased with their peace offering. This luscious young token of their apology left him feeling much more disposed to forgive. Indeed, the prospect of spending the next few nights in this abominable stone crypt of a castle suddenly looked a good deal more agreeable.
    Coming out here to the middle of nowhere, he had expected to have to go without his daily dose of sex, a real inconvenience for a man of his elemental nature. He had a rule, after all, against poaching on the locals.
    He wanted to be feared, not hated. But, hell, if they were going to offer her up on a silver platter, far be it from him to refuse such a delicious-looking morsel.
    On the other hand, cynically, he couldn’t help thinking of the Trojan horse. Beware of Greeks bearing gifts.
    No doubt the head-turning beauty sent to warm his bed was also tasked with spying on him for the smugglers’ gang. Certainly, he would not put such a scheme past sly old Caleb.
    The smugglers probably reasoned that if they could get one of their girls into position close to him, she could warn them in advance of their lord’s comings and goings, the better to help them conceal from him their next round of criminal mischief.
    Rohan shook his head to himself in amusement. Whatever their scheme, he wasn’t worried. In fact, it might be quite entertaining to play a little game of disinformation on his tenants if they actually thought they were clever enough to fool him.
    As for his young present, he’d enjoy her all the same. Amateur spy or no, he was not about to let a little deception get in the way of his pleasure.
    Watching the smugglers bring in six of their own, bound and shackled, he had some difficulty chasing the green-eyed harlot out of his mind.
    It was difficult to find a woman that did not suit his tastes, true. He had a lusty appreciation for them all—tall, short, curvy, thin, blonde, brunette, commoner, aristocrat. But there was something particularly appealing about that … luscious little mess. Her plump, rouged lips and those sweet erect nipples like hard pink candies pressing against her plunging gown had roused in him a mental groan of lust; and yet, the expression in her big, emerald eyes had looked so vulnerable and lost—pathetic, almost—that it had summoned up an even fiercer protective instinct in him.
    Quite bewildering.
    Something about the shivering, shoeless, tipsy tart had nearly touched the chunk of stone that had once been his heart. In that moment, he had not known which he had wanted more: to gather her onto his lap and comfort her, or to lay her down and ride her into mindless, sweaty ecstasy.
    He cast off the question with a restless shrug, deciding to do both as soon as he was done here.
    Until he was ready for her, however, she’d find the solar upstairs much more toasty. The girl had been obviously freezing cold—and foxed, to boot. He had not liked seeing her tremble so with the chilly drafts inside the castle. As for her state of inebriation, he had noted that she could barely stand without weaving on her feet.
    He scowled, recalling how the little tosspot had even forgotten her shoes. What was it about the harlot breed that they did not know when it was time to quit