The Duke's Gamble (3 page)

“No, I will assist her,” interjected Castor. Arabella gasped but to her credit, she said nothing. “Thank you, Mrs Robbins. We will ring if we require anything further.”

Mrs Robbins nodded. “Yes, Your Grace.”

He gestured for Arabella to precede him, watching closely as she walked into the room. She looked around, her eyes widening, and he was suddenly glad that he had had the room redecorated for her. “Is the bedchamber to your liking?”

Her eyes flew up to his. “Yes, thank you.” She pointed to a door. “Where does that lead to?”

“My rooms.” Castor watched as she paled.
 

“Y-your bedchamber? But do you not reside in the main bedchamber?”

“I do. This is the Duchess of Avalon’s rooms.” When she remained silent, he continued. “I thought it more efficient to have you in the bedchamber next to mine.”
 

Arabella’s eyelids fluttered, and her lips parted, but it was another moment before she spoke. “What … are your intentions towards me, Your Grace?” she asked softly. She was trembling but she lifted her chin, her clear grey eyes meeting his.
 

Castor experienced an odd feeling in the vicinity of his chest. Admiration, he thought, unwilling to think that it could be tenderness. He walked up to her, close enough to touch her if he chose to. He saw her draw in a breath. “My intentions, Lady Arabella? I’m afraid my intentions are of the most dishonourable kind.”

She exhaled a shuddering breath, her shoulders slumping. Yet she continued to hold his gaze, and his admiration of her grew. “I see.” Her voice shook.

The immense urge to drag her into his arms and hold her was unexpected. He hesitated then decided to forge ahead. “While you are here, I require you to abide by my rules.”

She stiffened. “Rules?”

“Yes. Rule one. You will do everything that I order you to do.”

Her mouth fell open. “Everything? But—”

Castor held out his hand and she closed her mouth. Her eyes, however, shot daggers at him, and he felt a smile tug at his mouth. “Rule two. I will neither entertain any objections nor enter into any discussions about the first rule.”

Arabella’s mouth opened again and he arched a brow. She pressed her lips together but her appearance was decidedly mulish. A chuckle threatened to break free but he managed to maintain an inscrutable countenance. His little prisoner clearly had a backbone. It was a pleasing discovery.
 

“You will refer to me as Castor.”

She blinked, clearly not expecting this. Her brows drew together but it appeared as if she was concentrating. “Castor? As in the twins Castor and Pollux?”

A shaft of pain pierced his heart, stealing his breath. He could not remember the last time he had heard his brother’s name spoken aloud. He steeled himself. “And I will call you Arabella.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I suppose I have no say about that either.”

He didn’t bother to reply but he was perturbed at finding her resistance captivating instead of exasperating. “You have no cause to fear me. I will not hurt you, Arabella. I have no desire to cause you any pain or discomfort. So you are to tell me at once if you experience any of these.”

Her chin lifted a fraction more. “And what about the pain I am feeling at being forced into this situation, Your Grace? I do not suppose you intend to do anything about that?”

Castor ignored the twinge of regret that prodded at his conscience. “I’m afraid I am unable to assuage your feelings in this matter. But you are most welcome to leave if you choose to,” he said, lying through his teeth. “But if you remain, you should know that I expect you to be in my bed.”

She blanched. And then her jaw firmed. “I expected nothing less,” she replied, her voice steady. His admiration of her grew.

“And in return, I will give you more pleasure than you ever thought possible.” He paused, looking intently into her eyes. “I promise you will lack for nothing here.” When she said nothing more he held out his hand. “Come, your supper is getting cold.”

She hesitated for such a long moment that he felt a tendril of uncertainty form. When she finally placed her soft hand in his, relief poured through him.

Chapter 4

Bella sat in the bathtub, her hands cradling a teacup as she kept her eyes trained on Avalon who was standing by the door, speaking with his valet. Castor. She had to remember that she was to call him Castor. Supper had seemed interminably long. Tray after tray had been brought in until the table in the corner of her bedchamber fairly groaned under the weight of the dishes. She had stared at the food, unable to hide her amazement at the number of dishes which surrounded her. There was a leg of pork large enough to feed two families, fish, fowl, soup, pies and an assortment of cakes. She had consumed very small quantities of the exquisitely cooked food, her exhaustion from her journey and her anxiety about the coming night robbing her of what little appetite she had. Avalon, no, Castor, had done nothing to put her at ease. He had said very little, merely regarded her with his dark, enigmatic eyes. It was impossible to say whether he found her desirable or wanting but the way he studied her had made her feel slightly embarrassed and yet oddly restless.

Despite the hot water that surrounded her, she was huddled over in an effort to hide her nakedness. Why she persisted in preserving her modesty, she didn’t know. He had already seen everything. Bella’s cheeks burned as she remembered the way his eyes had 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 cloth touched her chest and she jumped, her eyes flying open as the water sloshed dangerously.
 

“Easy,” murmured Castor. Though his tone was soft, his black eyes glittered with a dangerous light.

Bella couldn’t move, could barely breathe as his hand began to stroke over her skin. Slowly he moved over the smooth globe of her left breast. The linen gently abraded her nipple, causing it to tighten. Castor moved to her other breast, covering it with the cloth. She watched the wet cloth mould to her, outlining the tight bud of her nipple. Slowly, he circled his thumb around it and she felt her sex clench. When he caught the peak between his thumb and forefinger and rolled, Bella gasped.

The duke emitted a growl before his head descended and his mouth closed over her exposed nipple. She cried out at the twin sensations of heat and suction, one hand diving into his black, silky hair, the other reaching blindly for the edge of the tub. He released her, his tongue becoming a hard tip playing with the erect bud of her nipple. Then he was painting her with soft licks. Bella could barely believe that this was happening. Was this what men and women did in the privacy of the bedchamber? She had thought only babes suckled at a woman’s breasts. His teeth grazed her nipple and then he was sucking hard, making her whimper. Her fingers tightened around his hair and then he was pulling away.

Bella panted, feeling the cool air on her throbbing nipple. The place between her thighs pulsed, yet she didn’t understand why. Castor met her gaze, the intensity in his eyes holding her captive. His jaw was clenched tight and his lips were pressed into a thin line.
 

“I’m going to touch you, Arabella. I don’t want you to be afraid.” His voice was a harsh rasp.

“Have you not—” she swallowed, “—been touching me?”

“Yes. But I mean to touch you here.” His hand touched her abdomen and she jumped. Her surprise turned to shock as his hand slid lower. Lower still.
 

Bella jerked violently when the duke’s hand covered her mound. She surged upwards, her hands gripping the tub for leverage.
 

“Stay still.” His harsh voice cut through the haze of panic that surrounded her.

Her head swivelled quickly to his. Her rapid gasps of air were loud in the room. “Your G-Grace, I don’t … I cannot do this.”

“Arabella, I will not hurt you. Sit down.” When she hesitated, he repeated in a softer tone. “Sit.”

She stared at him, hesitating.
 

“Please.”

It was the last word he had uttered that made her comply. She would not have thought a man in his position would have ever used such a word. She slowly lowered herself back down.

“Spread your legs. Let me touch you.”
 

The words, combined with his low voice made her blush, and the ache that had smouldered in the pit of her stomach came back to life. Clenching her hands tightly on the rim of the tub, Bella allowed her legs to part.

“Look at me.” His voice compelled her to obey.
 

Bella looked up at him, wide grey eyes meeting uncompromising black. Her mouth dropped open in a gasp when his finger slid through the folds of her sex. He touched a spot that sent a bolt of lightning arcing through her core and her hips bucked in response. His eyes narrowed in concentration as his finger stroked over and then around. Up one side and down the other. Then down even further where he circled his finger around more sensitive flesh before … oh heavens. Surely he wasn’t …

* * *

Christ.
Castor bit back a groan as he pushed the tip of his finger into her snug channel. She was soft and deliciously wet, her arousal obvious even in the water. He felt the thin barrier of her maidenhead, and a primitive satisfaction rushed through him, knowing that he would be the first to claim her. His cock surged, hard and massively swollen against the strained material of his trousers, the small spill of seed dampening his shirt and trousers. He pushed his finger deeper, simultaneously stroking her clitoris. Arabella was breathing hard through her mouth, her pupils dilated as she struggled to keep her gaze locked to his.
 

God, she was beautiful, her cheeks flushed with desire, her thighs trembling with tension as she unconsciously pushed her hips into his hand. Castor slid his finger out, and gently flicked her tender bud with a fingernail. She cried out, and then he was stroking the swollen knot with insistent strokes, determined to bring her to a climax. Minutes later he was rewarded with a long moan, her head thrown back, her back arched as her entire body shuddered with pleasure.

He stared at her, blood roaring in his ears, his chest heaving as he struggled to draw in breath. He had not meant to go this far; had meant to put her at ease with a bath and then leave, allowing her time to become used to her new surroundings. He had wanted her to see him as a man, not a monster who had demanded her body as payment for a debt. But now that he had tasted her, witnessed her responsiveness to his touch, experienced her climax, none of this mattered.