Free A Duchess in the Dark by Kate McKinley

belonged to each other—undeniably, unquestionably. Irrevocably.
    He was hers, and she was his. Fate had seen to that.
    With a growl, he pulled back, then rocked forward, taking her deeper and harder with each powerful thrust. Soon, that familiar tension began to build, threatening to cast her over the edge, into sweet, heavenly oblivion.
    Finally with one last thrust, she erupted. Wave after wave of undulating heat washed over her, pulling her deeper into a swirling abyss of pleasure. Somewhere through the haze riotous sensation, she felt him pulse deep within her, and her channel clenched tight, claiming him.
    It took several long minutes for the world to come back into focus. When it did, she slumped back against the pillows, exhausted. He rolled to the side and gathered her into his arms. “We were always meant to be,” he whispered into her hair, his voice filled with emotion. “I have never been happier than I am now, at this moment.”
    She lifted up onto her elbow and kissed him warmly on the lips. “I love you, Ashton, more than you will ever know.” She traced his bottom lip with the tip of her finger. “And to prove it, I have a wedding gift for you.”
    “Oh?” His lips tilted up into a wicked smile. “What do you have for me?”
    “It’s still early…” She took his hand and moved it to her still-flat belly.
    Her courses were usually quite regular, but last month they’d failed to arrive altogether. She’d consulted a doctor, who’d confirmed what she’d already known in her heart. A babe was due to arrive in the spring.
    Shock, joy, and disbelief flashed across his handsome face all at once. He stretched his large hand across her belly possessively. “Are you certain?”
    “As certain as one can be about such things.”
    With a whoop of joy, he dropped a quick kiss on her lips, then bent to feather several kisses across her belly. “I believe we shall be very happy, my duchess.”
    “Yes.” She smiled, her fingers tangled in his hair. “Yes, I believe we shall.”

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Chapter One
    H e’d come.
    Against all of Olivia Dewhurst’s hopes for a quiet, peaceful visit to her cousins’ country estate, Adam Rycroft, newly minted Earl of Huntington, had arrived last night.
    It was inconsiderate, really. This was her cousin’s house party, after all, and Huntington had no conceivable reason to invade it with his dashing good looks and roguish charm. Indeed, every woman present had nearly swooned before he’d even dismounted from his horse.
    All night, she’d imagined the clever things she would say when they finally spoke. In every scenario she was completely at ease, exuding charm, wit, and effortless poise. She was grace itself.
    When the sun finally rose, she contemplated staying indoors but soon decided she would join the rest of the ladies for their morning ride. Within the half hour, she had dressed in a pale-green riding habit and mounted a chocolate-colored horse, cleverly named Chocolate, which the stable hand assured her was unusually gentle.
    Yes, well, “gentle” translated to slow and lazy, apparently. Chocolate refused to move unless Olivia swatted her on the rump with such vigor that the creature was forced to acknowledge her presence.
    The ladies were somewhat tolerant for a long while, until Olivia’s slow, meandering pace seemed to frustrate them.
    “You don’t mind if we go on ahead, do you, Miss Dewhurst?” Annabelle Wood said with an edge of censure in her voice. The others smiled atop their horses and said nothing, poised to ride off the moment Olivia gave her consent. Her cousin, Margaret, ever the incompetent hostess, had already wandered ahead of the group, unknowing or uncaring if the rest followed.
    “No, not at all,” Olivia lied. Anxiety swamped her, but she’d die before she let it show. “Please, go on ahead. I’ll be along shortly.”
    The words had hardly left her