The Unclaimed Duchess by Jenna Petersen

people.
    â€œAre you going to speak to me or just stare me to hell?” Anne whispered as she struggled to sit up.
    He arched a brow. His new bride had never been so defiant in all the years they had been betrothed. Her pliability was part of her perfection for the position as his duchess. But he found he rather liked the tart tone of her voice, the snap of rebelliousness in her eyes. Why, he had no idea. No man in his right mind would want to be married to a woman who didn’t recognize his authority.
    He folded his arms and pulled himself back together as best he could. He would handle his strange reactions to Anne once he got rid of her, and get rid of her he must, before she uncovered the reasons that he had come there. He wasn’t ready for anyone to know the truth of his birth…not yet.
    â€œThere are a few people in the village who I think could have their silence assured with enough blunt,” he murmured, more to himself than to her. “If I sent word home, a driver and your own servant could meet you along the road in a day or so.”
    Anne stared at him, then got to her feet. “So you are still determined you shall send me back? Then why tell Simon’s driver to depart?”
    He sucked in a breath as she said his best friend’s…his brother’s name. She had no idea how deeply it cut him every time he heard it.
    â€œBecause I don’t want my Simon involved in this,” he growled as he turned so he could wipe his emotions away as best he could. “But you must go back.”
    He felt her hand on his shoulder, and in that moment he realized he still hadn’t put the shirt he clenched in his hand back on. He turned to face her, mesmerized by how soft her hand was on his skin. How her fingers lingered for a moment on the muscle of his shoulder as she looked at him, face upturned in the glittering sunlight that came through the clean window behind him.
    â€œRhys,” she whispered. “I told you already that I won’t leave.”
    He opened his mouth, but her fingers came to his lips, two of them pressing there gently to stop the words on his tongue. But now he wanted to do somethingdifferent with that tongue, like dart it out and taste her. Draw her between his lips until she shut her eyes and buckled to his will one way or another.
    Instead he stood stone-still and tried to think of anything he could that would make the raging ridge of his blooming erection less noticeable.
    â€œI’m not some reticent child who you can simply send away,” she said softly. “You and I married not two weeks ago. When we were announced as husband and wife before God and our friends, it changed everything. I won’t abandon you, even if you claim you desire it. That was my promise to you and I keep my promises.”
    She slowly withdrew her fingers and let her hands fall to her sides. Rhys stared at her, her words slithering through his pain-addled brain like insidious snakes. He had been so alone since Simon told him the truth of his birth. There had been no comfort, no friend, no confidant to share these deep and powerful pains with.
    He had never called Anne any of those things, but he knew she could be a friend and confidant. He’d seen her be both to other people. Her character was such that if he told her the truth, she would offer him support and consolation without hesitation.
    She would do it, even to her detriment.
    It was a bewitching idea, that he could hand overall his heartbreak and let her bear it for a short time. That he could depend upon her.
    â€œRhys?” she whispered.
    He shook his head, and the action cleared his mind. What was he thinking? He wasn’t about to pour out his heart like some kind of foolish romantic hero. Or give over his secrets to anyone, not even his wife. And not only because it wasn’t in his nature to be so maudlin and weak.
    No, he had to keep his secrets from her in order to protect her. This