Page 115 of The Duke's Daring Bride

All of Society.

Christ, just the thought stole the air from his lungs.

The idea of standing in front of all those people—people he’d avoided for decades—made his chest ache, made it hard to breathe. He didn’t want to do this…but it would work.

Olivia squeezed his hand again and caught his gaze.

“Alistair. Are you certain? You’re willing to do this?” she whispered.

He lifted her hand to his lips. “For ye,” he rasped.

When she blinked, he realized there were tears in her eyes, and uncertainty hit him.

He remembered the last time she’d been introduced as his wife—as the Duchess of Effinghell. Disaster. How could he ask her to face that again?

“Liv?” he prompted in a rasp, hoping she understood the question. “Ye…?”

Her lopsided grin told him she’d understood enough. “I’m not pleased with the idea, Alistair, but… Your mother has been speaking about hosting a ball in your—our honor. We could agree to it, with the stipulation that it’s smaller. A…a soiree? Is that what it’s called?”

From across the room came Demon’s grim voice. “If ye host it, he’ll come, no matter what ye call it. A chance to meet the elusive Duke of Effinghell? Aye, Bonkinbone will be here.”

Alistair felt as if the room was closing in around him.

Why in the hell had he mentioned this? Volunteered for it?

Because it was the best way to accomplish the objective.

Aye, but why was he involved in any of this? It wasn’t his responsibility.

Nay, but it’s Olivia’s. It’s important to her.

And therefore, it was important to him.

Her touch on his cheek startled him, and it wasn’t until his eyes flashed open that he realized he’d closed them. She was studying him, and the look in her eyes…

It wasn’t pity.

It wasn’t fear.

It was…pride?

Olivia leaned forward and brushed a quick kiss across his lips. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Alistair inhaled. He inhaled her scent, her bravery, her certainty. He inhaled her strength.

Aye, he’d do this. For her.

“Well,” announced Thorne from across the room. “I suppose the next step would be to find some belladonna.”

Straightening, Olivia’s lips twitched. “Actually, I think I can handle that.”

“What?” Demon blurted. “Ye have a secret stash of poisons? Perhaps ye should be cautious when it comes to giving this woman yer heart, Alistair.”

“Don’t be silly,” Olivia scoffed. “But I do know where to buy some.”

“Ah, thanks to that investigation?”

The conversation continued, but Alistair’s ears had given up after Demon’s casual comment. Giving his heart to Olivia? Is that what he was doing?

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