JOSIE REARRANGED THE lovely nightgown trimmed in lace around her, then settled into the pillows stacked behind her, so she could read comfortably. Despite how engaging she found the book, her thoughts kept skipping to the man in the next room.
Had she locked the door? Surely she had. It was too cold to get out of bed, walk over there barefoot, and check. Besides, the duke wouldn’t come in without knocking first, and if he did, she’d simply tell him to go away.
Or maybe not.
Josie was confused by her feelings, especially her disappointment that Marcus hadn’t tried to kiss her good night. Not to mention her willingness to make love to him again. She consoled herself with the knowledge that if he had kissed her, he might have wanted to do more than that.
She pursed her lips in disgust when she realized she would gladly have welcomed him into her bed, especially when she knew full well that any further physical relationship with the Dastardly Duke would only complicate her life.
After reading a few chapters, her eyelids kept sliding closed, and Josie knew she ought to set her spectacles aside, extinguish the lamp, and go to sleep. She had a long day of hard work ahead of her tomorrow, but she was enjoying the story and wanted to read just a little more.
Her eyes fluttered open when something tickled her chin, and she realized the maid must have turned out the lamp and banked the fire after she’d fallen asleep. The open book had fallen to her side. She turned her gaze toward the window, marveling at the moonlight streaming in through windows the duke had cleared of ivy. He’d told her he wanted her to be able to see the sunrise in the morning. She wondered if he’d had any idea how beautiful the moonlight would be.
Josie felt another tickle and brushed at whatever it was. Her fingertips bumped into something furry, something sitting on her shoulder, something that squeaked as she flung her hand across the top of her nightgown to remove it. But tiny claws were caught in the lace collar of her nightgown, and the agitated animal began scratching frantically at her flesh in an attempt to break free.
A rat! It was a huge, hairy rat. And it was going to bite into her flesh at any moment!
Josie screamed in terror and sat bolt upright, just in time to see a small brown mouse go flying toward the foot of the bed. She shoved at the covers with both hands and both feet to get free of the sheets, and leapt out of bed to get away. She heard the mouse’s claws skittering along the wooden floor beyond the carpet and shrieked at the thought that it might be heading back in her direction. She didn’t even realize where she was going, until she met the duke coming through the doorway between their two rooms to meet her.
“Josie? What’s wrong?”
She was trembling too hard and feeling too terrified to respond. She threw her arms around his neck and pressed her body tight against his, which was clothed only in a nightshirt. His hands tightened around her as he said, “I have you. You’re safe.”
She kept gasping, trying to climb up his body, because she couldn’t stand the thought of her bare feet on the frigid wooden floor, where they might be discovered by the carnivorous rodent, until at last, he reached down and lifted her into his arms.
He started to carry her toward her bed and she cried, “No! Not there.”
Without a word, he turned and headed back into his room. He tried setting her down on his bed, but she wouldn’t let go of his neck, so he slid into bed beside her, pulling her close. Tears were streaming down her face, and she was shuddering at the memory of how close the awful flesh-eater had been to her face, to her throat, to her ears.
Josie burrowed her face against her husband’s throat and pressed her body against his as tightly as she could. She couldn’t get close enough, and begged him, “Hold me tighter.”
His arms were already around her, and she felt them tighten. But it wasn’t enough. She needed to escape the memories, she needed to escape the past, she needed…escape.
“Come inside me. Now,” she pleaded, dragging at his nightshirt to pull it away from his hips.
He tore his nightgown off over his head and threw it aside, then pulled her nightgown up to her waist, as he turned her onto her back. Then he drove himself into her to the hilt. His mouth came down to cover hers, and Josie thrust her tongue inside to taste him, as she grasped handfuls of his hair to hold him close. As he levered himself away, she arched her hips to meet him, desperate to maintain the closeness between them.
She ceased to think, aware only of the strength of his arms, the smooth planes of his muscular chest, and the taste of brandy in his mouth. She heard his guttural groan of satisfaction, and reached her own crest of passion, as their bodies sought the oxygen to support them in extremity.
Suddenly, she was flying, completely divorced from her corporeal body, in some ephemeral heaven that she sought to hold onto, but which fled almost as soon as she recognized it for what it was. Then she was sliding into sleep, totally enervated, unable to keep her eyes open even a second longer.
When she awoke—moments later? hours later?—she was aware of being held in the duke’s arms. And that he was awake. “I…” She hid her face against his shoulder, unsure how to explain her behavior.
“I’ve read Great Expectations,” he said wryly. “I don’t remember any horrifying passages. What scared you so badly?”
Josie was afraid to admit the truth. It was such a silly fear. But she had to tell him something, so she said, “A mouse.”
He laughed and pulled her snug against him. “A mouse sent you screaming from bed in terror?”
She shoved at his shoulders and said, “Have you ever been bitten? Or seen someone whose flesh has been eaten away in the dark of night?”
“No,” he said, putting enough space between them that she could see the frown between his eyes. “I haven’t.”
“It isn’t a pretty sight.”
“I take it you have been bitten. Or seen someone whose ear has been eaten away?”
She nodded jerkily. “My youngest brother, Harry, had part of his ear chewed off by a mouse at the orphanage. He was wrapped tightly in blankets as a baby to keep him warm and couldn’t get his hands free to save himself. His screams brought my eldest sister, Miranda, to the rescue. I got there when she was tearing the mouse free from his ear.” She shuddered. “It wouldn’t let go.”
“There were a lot of mice at the orphanage?”
She nodded, then ducked her head under his chin to hide her face from him. “I’ve hated mice ever since. When I woke up and found one sitting on my shoulder, I…panicked.”
She felt his hands smoothing their way across her back outside her silk gown and stiffened in his embrace.
His fingertips were tracing the raised scars from the torture she’d suffered two years ago. First one. And then another. And then another.
She tried to bolt, terrified at the thought of his seeing her mutilated back, but he held her tight, so there was no hope of escape.
His body was tense, his voice low and harsh, as he asked, “What happened to your back, Josie?”