Page 37 of A Heart Disguised 1

When the feast had reached its conclusion and the final plates were cleared away, the duke rose from his chair with a grace that belied his formidable size. He offered me his hand, the gesture both courtly and possessive. “Lady Robin, allow me to escort you back to your chambers.”

My heart, which had been happily beating in time with the lively conversation, now resumed its erratic drumming. As we exited the grand hall, his hand tightened around my arm, a silent promise of protection—or perhaps a silent claim. I couldn’ttell which, and the ambiguity made my pulse flutter with anticipation.

To my surprise, instead of leading me to the bedroom I had come to think of as my own, Duke Darius steered me toward the castle’s inner courtyard. The night air was cool and fragrant, filled with the scent of blooming blossoms and the soft, earthy perfume of the gardens after rain. Moonlight bathed the scene in silver, casting shadows and turning the dew-drenched petals into shimmering jewels. Fireflies danced around us, their tiny lights winking in and out of existence like the stars come down to play.

I gasped, unable to contain my wonder at the ethereal beauty that surrounded us. “It’s… it’s magical,” I breathed.

The duke’s hand came up to cup my face, turning me gently to meet his gaze. His golden eyes held mine, intense and unreadable. I opened my mouth to speak, to ask what he was thinking, but before I could form the words, his lips crashed against mine.

The sudden contact sent a jolt through my body, my eyes widening in surprise. This was no gentle, exploratory kiss like before. This was hunger, raw and unrestrained. His lips moved against mine with a fervor that left me breathless, his tongue seeking entrance. Without conscious thought, my lips parted, allowing him in.

The taste of him was intoxicating—rich wine mingled with something darker, more primal. His tongue swept into my mouth, exploring, claiming. I gasped against him, the sound swallowed by our kiss. My mind reeled, struggling to process the sensations flooding through me.

I should have been frightened. I should have pulled away. But as the duke’s arms encircled me, drawing me flush against his body, I melted into him instead. My hands, seemingly oftheir own volition, clutched at his shoulders, desperate for an anchor in this storm of sensation.

The world around us faded away. There was only this—the heat of his mouth, the pressure of his body against mine, the thundering of my heart. I couldn’t breathe, but I didn’t care. Breathing seemed inconsequential compared to the feel of his lips, the slide of his tongue against mine.

As the kiss deepened, a warmth spread through me, pooling low in my belly. It was a sensation I’d never experienced before, both thrilling and terrifying in its intensity. Part of me wanted to run, to hide from these overwhelming feelings. But a larger part—a part I barely recognized—never wanted this moment to end.

When the duke finally pulled away, I felt bereft, swaying slightly on my feet. His arms tightened around me, steadying me. I blinked up at him, dazed, my lips tingling from the force of his kiss.

His voice, when he spoke, was a low rumble. “I find I am eagerly anticipating our wedding night, Lady Robin.”

The words pierced through the haze of sensation, reality crashing back in. My eyes widened, a tumult of emotions washing over me—fear, anticipation, confusion, and something else I couldn’t quite name.

“I… I must retire now, Your Grace,” I stammered, pulling away from his embrace. “I find I am quite exhausted.”

Without waiting for his response, I turned and fled, my heart pounding in my chest and my thoughts a whirlwind of confusion. As I raced back to the sanctuary of my chambers, I could feel the ghost of his kiss on my lips, the phantom pressure of his body against mine.

I burst into my room, slamming the door behind me and sliding down to the floor. My breath came in ragged gasps, my whole body trembling. Slowly, I raised a hand to my lips, tracing them gently. They felt swollen, sensitive to even that light touch.

My mind was a jumble of conflicting thoughts and emotions. The duke was dangerous, I knew that. He was a demon, powerful beyond measure, and I was deceiving him in the worst possible way. And yet… the memory of his kiss sent a shiver through me, a warmth blooming in my chest.

I closed my eyes, leaning my head back against the door. The duke’s face swam before me—those intense golden eyes, the curve of his lips, the strength in his arms as he held me. A small, traitorous part of me wished I was still there, in the moonlit courtyard, wrapped in his embrace.

“What am I doing?” I whispered to the empty room, but no answer came. Only the lingering taste of the duke’s kiss and the unsettling realization that, despite everything, a part of me was looking forward to our next encounter.

12

Robin

Iclosed my eyes, desperately willing sleep to come, but it eluded me like a mischievous sprite. The silk sheets whispered against my skin as I tossed and turned, unable to find comfort in any position. My fingers strayed to my lips for what felt like the hundredth time, tracing their outline with trembling anticipation. The ghost of the duke’s kiss lingered there, a phantom touch.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” I muttered into the darkness, flipping onto my back and staring at the ornate ceiling. The moonlight filtering through the gauzy curtains cast intricate shadows across the room, but all I could see was the duke. His golden eyes, piercing and intense, seemed to gaze at me from every corner. I squeezed my eyes shut, but the image only grew more vivid. The firm press of his lips, the warmth of his breath, the strength in his hands as they had cupped my face—every detail was etched into my memory with startling clarity. My heart thundered in my chest, its frantic rhythm echoing in my ears. “This is madness,” I whispered to myself, but even as the words left my mouth, my traitorous mind conjured up new images of the duke, each one more enticing than the last.

I must have dozed off at some point, for the next thing I knew, I was adrift in a sea of dreams. Duke Darius was there, his presence both comforting and thrilling. We were in the castle gardens, the air heavy with the scent of night-blooming jasmine. The duke’s hand was warm in mine as he led me through a maze of hedges, his golden eyes glowing in the moonlight. Just as he leaned in, his lips a breath away from mine, the dream began to fade, colors bleeding into the encroaching light of dawn.

I stirred, caught in that hazy realm between sleep and wakefulness. Sunlight streamed through the gap in the curtains, painting a golden stripe across my bed. For a moment, I lay still, blinking away the remnants of a dream that slipped away like water through my fingers. All I could recall was the duke’s face, his golden eyes gazing at me with an intensity that made my breath catch even now.

“Duke Darius,” I whispered, the name a prayer on my lips. My mind swam with images of him—his broad shoulders, the curve of his jaw, the way his lips had felt against mine. A warmth spread through my body, settling low in my belly.

Then I became aware of a familiar pressure between my legs. I lifted the covers and groaned in frustration, letting my head fall back onto the pillow with a softthud. “Not again,” I muttered, squeezing my eyes shut. This was becoming a daily torment, and I had no idea how to make it stop.

I rolled onto my side, curling into myself as if I could hide from my own body’s reactions. “Why?” I whispered to the empty room, my voice tinged with exasperation. “Why does this keep happening?”

Russet stirred at the foot of the bed, his tail thumping softly against the mattress. I envied his peaceful slumber. Starling, too, seemed untroubled, preening her feathers on the windowsill. Neither of them had any idea of the turmoil raging within me.

Suddenly, I remembered—I was supposed to go riding with Duke Darius after breakfast. Panic seized me, my heart leaping into my throat. How could I face him like this?

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