Duke of Disrepute (Dukes of Distinction #3) - Alexa Aston Page 0,1

dressing gown and night rail and then climbed atop him. Within moments, he was hard. She reached under her pillow and removed a French letter, sheathing him and then guiding him inside her, where she rode him with abandon. He watched her, her eyes closed, contentment on her face as they both climaxed at the same time. She fell onto his chest, breathing rapidly.

Then as usual, she moved off him. Juniper wasn’t a cuddler, something he hoped might change. She tossed on her night rail.

“You need to leave,” she said. “You look far too satisfied in my bed and much too sleepy. It wouldn’t bode well if you fell asleep and I couldn’t wake you.” Grinning, she added, “Think of the scandal that would cause. A groom found in his bride’s bed before the ceremony was performed.”

Weston dressed as she went to her dressing table. He watched her unpin her hair and brush it out. He longed to comb his fingers through it but knew she was right. He needed to get some rest before their big day tomorrow. He went and placed his hands on her shoulders, kissing the side of her neck and then the top of her head.

“Tomorrow at St. George’s then?” he asked playfully.

Her eyes met his in the mirror. “Yes, darling. Tomorrow.”

“Farewell, my lady.” His eyes twinkled. “Or should I say Your Grace?”

Her lips twitched with amusement. “Oh, I could get used to that. I think I will make for an absolutely marvelous duchess.”

“You will,” he assured her, thinking of everything he would lavish upon her once she became his wife.

He left her bedchamber, creeping down the hall. He met Kingsbury on the stairs and grinned sheepishly.

“Goodnight,” he murmured. “I’ll let myself out.”

Weston reached the ground floor and opened the massive door, shutting it quietly behind him. His carriage awaited him at the curb. As he reached it, he realized he’d neglected to put his waistcoat back on.

“I’ll be right back,” he told his driver and returned to the house.

Normally, it wouldn’t matter that he’d left his waistcoat behind but inside its pocket was Juniper’s wedding ring. He’d been carrying it with him for a week now, giddy as a schoolboy. It wouldn’t do to show up at the altar tomorrow without it. He was afraid if he sent word to her, she might not receive it with all the hustle and bustle of preparing for her wedding in the morning. Even if she did, she would have to get the ring to him. Weston didn’t trust that to happen, especially if she gave it to her brother. Monty had garnered a reputation of being irresponsible during their school days and it seemed nothing had changed as he’d matured into an adult. It would just be easier to claim the article of clothing and the ring inside now.

He reached Juniper’s bedchamber and decided not to knock and draw undue attention. She always fell asleep quickly and deeply after they’d lain together and was probably already dreaming even now. Turning the knob, he quietly pushed open the door, thinking he could retrieve his waistcoat and kiss her brow before retreating to his carriage.

What he saw caused him to come to a standstill, his mouth gaping.

Juniper was in bed.

With her brother.

Kingsbury’s bare back and buttocks glistened with sweat as he hovered over her. Weston could see her legs entwined about his waist. She was making the same noises she made when they made love. Bile rose in his throat. He couldn’t stand by idly, though. He strode across the room and shoved Kingsbury off her. Startled, the viscount fell off the bed and scrambled to his feet, a scowl on his handsome face.

Weston tore his eyes from the naked man and focused on his fiancée. She wore a satisfied smile, like a cat who’d been caught licking cream.

“Hello, darling,” she said sensually. “Have you come to join in our fun?”

Disgust filled him. He reached to the floor and picked up her dressing gown and threw it at her, turning away. His thoughts were in a jumble. Something touched his shoulder and he wheeled. It was Kingsbury.

“I say, Treadwell, we—”

Weston slammed his fist into the viscount’s face. The crunch of broken bone sounded and blood spurted from Kingsbury’s nose as he stumbled back. Curses flew from his lips.

“Oh, don’t be such a baby,” purred Juniper.

He turned and saw her climb from the bed, holding the dressing gown he’d given her. She padded naked to her brother and tenderly