His Dutchess

chapter 9

“… I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”

She gulped.

Although she was ready to fall into a heap on the floor, Blake was a statue of control. He wrapped one arm around her waist and dropped his gaze to hers. Grey eyes sparkled and his perfect lips pulled up at the corners. She licked her lips and forced them to smile. Her stomach twisted as he drew

her closer. Blake used his free hand to hold her cheek. He hesitated over her lips.

Samantha felt the heat of his breath and let her body relax into his embrace. Then his lips were there, moist, firm, and completely intoxicating. Electricityzapped her brain and wiggled down her body. Even in heels, she tiptoed to meet his kiss. His arm crushed her body to his, her breasts pushed against his taut chest. She gasped and his tongue slid into her mouth.

Samantha forgot about the minister, about the strangers watching, and simply gave into the pleasure Blake Harrison evoked inside her body. It had been eons since she’d been kissed, and certainly no one compared. Maybe it was the fact that she was learning Blake’s touch after exchanging wedding vows, or maybe it was the man himself. Perhaps all Dukes kissed like him.

Someone cleared his throat and Samantha felt Blake pull away. Something close to confusion settled in his eyes. Was it possible that Blake felt that kiss as deeply as she did? She thought of the two women he’d have to give an explanation to, and decided that the kiss couldn’t have affected him nearly as much. Blake, her husband, was a player. She’d have to remember that.

“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Harrison. If you’ll follow me and sign a couple of papers, the two of you can begin your honeymoon.”

The minister ushered them from the small chapel where Samantha signed her name next to Blake’s.

Just like that, she was a married woman.

****

Blake wasn’t sure what he pictured his wedding night to be like, but the previous night hadn’t been it. He’d secured a honeymoon suite at a luxurious resort and casino and slept on the couch, all the while listening to his wife mill about the bedroom until she finally settled sometime around one in the morning.

Their kiss had unsettled him. It started out as an act, a public display of affection that, if needed, could be reported back to the lawyers. But the performance was something he’d wanted to repeat since he and Samantha left the chapel. The way her face lit up and her inability to meet his eye proved she was as turned on as he. Dammit, he shouldn’t be lusting over his wife. A wife of convenience. A wife that often put a smile on his face and made him question his

playboy ways and superficial pastimes.

He remembered her warning about “keeping it in his pants” or something to that effect. He needed to get far away from Mrs. Harrison and soon, or keeping it in his pants would be impossible.

Blake tucked away the blanket and pillow he’d tried to use the night before and waited for the light to filter into Samantha’s room to wake her up. He’d already sent notice to the offices in London about his “whirlwind” wedding to his “love at first sight” bride. It wouldn’t take long for word to spread. Chances were he’d have to retrieve his wife within a couple of weeks to convince those

who watched that their nuptials were heartfelt. He’d use those couple of weeksto build a few fences around his libido. He didn’t worry about his heart, but if he

screwed up Samantha’s, he risked losing everything. That risk was entirely too

high.

A soft knock on the door alerted him that room service had arrived.

Blake opened the door and ushered the uniformed staff to wheel the cart into the center of the room. The rich smell of coffee arrested his senses and made his mouth water. As the waiter handed him the bill to sign, the door to the bedroom opened and out walked the smoky eyed, sleepy vision of a wife wrapped in a fluffy white bathrobe.

“Is that coffee I smell?” Samantha’s bedroom voice ripped through him and he groaned. Even the kid shuffling the room service tray forgot what he was doing as he turned toward the voice.

“I ordered breakfast.”

“Oh, good, I’m starving.” Sam’s bare feet pattered closer, her petite legs peeked through the slit in the robe. The kid dropped the bill and Blake moved to stand between Samantha and the waiter.

The kid turned red as he picked up the bill and handed it over. Blake signed it quickly and pushed the kid out of his room. The hair on the back of Blake’s neck stood on end. He took a deep breath and stiffened his spine before her turned around. His bravado didn’t work. Samantha was peeking under the silver lids with one hand and pushing her rumpled hair back with the other. She was sexy as sin.

She lifted the coffee and started to pour. “How do you like it?”

Blake closed his eyes and forced his naked thoughts out of his lust-filled mind. “Black.”

He crossed to the table and sat. Working quietly, Samantha handed him a cup before she sprinkled a little sugar in her coffee.

As the first sip met her lips, she sunk into her chair with a sigh. The sound was throaty and brought another wave of awareness over his skin. He needed to get the hell out of Vegas or all bets for not bedding his wife were off.

Not realizing her effect on him, Samantha lifted her legs and sat them on the opposite chair. The robe gapped open revealing a flash of thigh.

Blake’s body responded with a vengeance. His hardened length pushed to painful levels, forcing him to shift in his chair to avoid Samantha’s notice.

“How did you sleep?” she asked, not bothering to cover her alabaster skin.

“Okay,” he lied, trying hard to divert his eyes from her thighs.

“Really? I toss and turned. I’m more keyed up about this marriage than I thought I would be.”How difficult would it be to tell her he felt the same? But then, that would

sound as if he wasn’t in control. Blake had to have an iron fist on everything in his life, including his marriage.

“I’m sure you’ll get used to it. Especially after I leave for London.”

She reached forward and removed a piece of toast from the plate. “When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” She sounded surprised.

“I’ll take you back to LA, introduce you to my staff and Carter, and then prepare to go.”

She nibbled on her bread. “Won’t that look suspicious, you leaving so soon after our marriage?”

“It might, so we’ll have to make things look good. Daily phone calls, something that proves we’re talking to each other. My father’s lawyers are merciless. They hired private eyes on behalf of my father when I was in college to report back about my transgressions.”

“Isn’t that extreme?”

“My father offered kickbacks, lucrative kickbacks for every offence they found. I doubt anything has changed since his death.” Because Blake didn’t want to dive into more family history quite yet, he asked, “Do you have a passport?”

“Not since I was twenty and the Feds took it. There shouldn’t be a problem with me obtaining one. In any event, it will be a good excuse as to why I’m not with you.” She was smiling now, waking up as she finished her first cup of coffee. He didn’t think his switch of subjects went unnoticed, but she kept any

questions she had to herself. “I’ll start the paperwork on Monday.”

“Sounds good.”

“I was thinking, last night when I couldn’t sleep, if I should change my name or not. A lot of women keep their names even after they marry. It might be easier.” She sat forward and dished up some scrambled eggs.

He didn’t like the sound of that, and would question why later. “If we had married for love and not for convenience, would you have taken my name?”

“But we didn’t.”

“But what if we had?”

She glanced down at the family ring he’d placed on her finger the day before.

“Yes, I probably would have.”

He finished his coffee with a smug sense of satisfaction. “Then you change your name. I don’t want anyone questioning anything. We’ll have enough obstacles to overcome with you and I living the majority of this year on different continents.”She looked like she wanted to argue, but sighed instead. “You’re probably right.”

“I’m going to set up an account for you before I leave, and give you the keys to my house here.” The thought of her walking around his house in a fuzzy white robe brought a smile to his face.

“That isn’t necessary.”

“I disagree,” he said, dishing up his own eggs, sausage, and toast. “I wouldn’t leave a wife without resources.”

“Fine, but I won’t use them. I don’t need your money, at least not now that you’ve taken care of Jordan, and I have my own place.” She chewed her food slowly before swallowing.

“I still owe you your twenty percent. Use the account, Samantha. My wife wouldn’t go without and I won’t have people saying I’m not taking care of you.”

She dropped her hand to the table. “I won’t ruin your image, Blake.”

“You will if you’re driving an old car and skimping on personal items. I’m not suggesting you buy a yacht, just don’t shop at the big box stores.” He pictured the media catching her in WalMart and cringed.

“You realize how snobby that sounds, right?’

“I don’t care. My girlfriends shopped at designer stores, my wife won’t be taking dresses off the sale rack.” Blake noticed her jaw tighten and prepared himself for an argument.

“Is there something wrong with how I dress?”

Oh, boy… he was walking in a minefield without a lead jacket. “I didn’t say that.”

“Oh, yes you did.”

He stopped eating. “You know I’m right about this.”

Her lips twitched but she didn’t deny him. “Fine.”

“Good.” I won. Lord, when was the last time he’d argued with a woman about not wanting to spend his money? He found a smile on his lips.

“What’s so funny?”

Her eyes were sparkling with unreleased fury. They were drop-dead gorgeous.

“I think we just had our first marital spat.”

Her shoulders slumped and folded in with laughter. “I guess we did.”

“And I won,” he pointed out.

Samantha fixed him with a heated stare. “Don’t expect that to continue.”

No, he mused. He wasn’t delusional enough to think he’d win every time.

However, winning the first placed a certain amount of whip cream on top of his

marital pie.