Page 19 of A Sinful Virgin for the Duke

“Well, I imagine being a duke invites all sorts of unnecessary flattery,” she teased lightly. “I suppose you are accustomed to everyone fawning over you, eager to gain your favor.”

Frederick’s smile deepened, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You would be surprised how often people mistake civility for sincerity. Their motives are usually transparent.”

“I see,” Gemma said, taking a small step forward, her gaze never wavering. “So, you hide away in your study to avoid all the sycophants?”

Frederick chuckled softly, the sound low and almost reluctant, as though he wasn’t used to such conversations. “Not exactly. I have little patience for inane chatter, especially from those who seek to manipulate me. And believe me, there are many who try.”

Gemma crossed her arms over her chest, an impish grin playing at the corners of her mouth. “And do you think I am here now in order to manipulate you? Is that it?”

Frederick’s eyes darkened slightly as he studied her. “You are certainly not here out of the goodness of your heart,Miss Bradford. But I will admit… I am intrigued to learn what your reasons are.”

Her defiance flickered again, but there was something vulnerable tucked underneath it, though she hid it well.

“If you must know, Your Grace, I am not interested in manipulating you.”

“Then whatareyou interested in?” His question came quickly, his tone sharper now.

He wanted to see if she would give him an honest answer, or if she would sidestep it as she had before.

Gemma didn’t flinch, though he noticed a brief hesitation in her eyes.

“Freedom,” she said softly, the word carrying more weight than he had expected. “That is all I want.”

Frederick felt something akin to a pang of understanding. He, too, had once sought freedom, though his circumstances had been vastly different. His freedom had been stolen by duty, by the expectations placed upon him as a duke. Hers had been taken by something else.

Someoneelse.

Frederick stood up slowly, rounding his desk and reducing the space between them. “So, you think staying here will give you what you are looking for?”

He was unsure why he continued to press her so hard, but her defiance, her vulnerability, and her desire to escape the chains that bound her struck a chord deep within him.

Gemma lifted her chin, her eyes meeting his unflinchingly. “Not exactly. I do not plan to stay here forever, Your Grace. Only long enough to find a way forward. To get somewhere safe, on my own terms.”

Frederick’s eyes narrowed, a slow smirk forming on his lips. “You should be careful with that sharp tongue of yours,” he murmured, leaning in just a fraction closer. “It might get you into trouble.”

He stood before her now, close enough to see the tension in her shoulders, the way her chest rose and fell a little quicker than it had earlier. Frederick tilted his head slightly, intrigued by the fire that burned so brightly within her.

Gemma’s breath hitched, her pulse quickening as she looked up at him. They stood like that for a moment, the air crackling with an intensity that neither of them could deny. He felt the pull between them that hummed like a taut string ready to snap.

Her gaze didn’t falter, but there was now something softer in her eyes that made him wonder if, despite her bravado, she was as uncertain about this moment as he was.

Just as the tension reached its peak, a knock sounded at the door, shattering the stillness of the room.

Frederick blinked, the spell between them once again broken as he straightened, his expression hardening once more.

He turned his head sharply toward the door. “What is it?” he called gruffly.

The door creaked open and the butler stepped inside, bowing slightly. “Apologies, Your Grace, but there is a matter which requires your attention.”

Frederick clenched his jaw in frustration. He glanced at Gemma, her expression once again guarded, before turning to the butler. “Very well,” he said tersely.

The butler nodded and waited in the room, leaving the door ajar.

Frederick exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair as he turned back to Gemma. The moment between them had evaporated, replaced by the cold reality of his responsibilities and the reminder that she was still a guest in his home; an enigma, yes, but a complication he wasn’t sure he needed.

“We shall continue this conversation another time,” he said, his voice clipped but kind.

Gemma nodded, though the tension in her frame hadn’t fully eased. “Of course,” she replied in a measured tone.

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