Page 9 of A Sinful Virgin for the Duke

Gemma’s pulse quickened. She could feel the trap tightening around her, but she refused to back down.

“I…was invited, of course,” she said, her voice wavering slightly. “By… the Duke himself.”

The man chuckled softly, a deep, rich sound that sent a shiver down her spine. “TheDukeinvited you, did he?”

“Yes,” she said, her chin lifting defiantly. “I have a personal connection with him. He and my father are close friends.”

He tilted his head, his gaze studying her with an unsettling intensity. “And yet, I find it curious that you are hiding in here. An eligible young woman, dressed in rags, pretending to read a book… Tell me, Miss Cartwright, why is that?”

Gemma gulped. The lie was unraveling faster than she could weave it back together, and the man’s piercing gaze was making it impossible for her to think straight.

She was about to respond when the door to the library creaked open and a servant stepped inside, bowing deeply.

“Your Grace,” the servant said, his voice trembling slightly, “I apologize for interrupting, but I was sent to inform you that thedinner party continues, and the Dowager Duchess is asking after you.”

Your Grace?

Gemma’s blood ran cold and she thought she would faint.

She turned slowly, her eyes widening in horror as the realization hit her like a blow to the chest.

I have just insulted and lied to the Duke of Blackridge, the very Duke who owns the estate onto which I have trespassed.

The Duke looked down at her blankly though his eyes gleamed with satisfaction at exposing her lies.

“Thank you,” he said to the servant, his voice calm and measured. “Inform the guests that I have been called away on urgent business. The dinner party is over.”

The servant bowed again and left the room, closing the door behind him. The silence that followed was deafening.

Gemma sat frozen in the chair, her heart pounding in her chest. She had just tried to deceive the Duke of Blackridge himself—one of the most powerful men in the country—and now he was standing in front of her, fully aware of her attempts to deceive him.

The Duke’s eyes never left hers as he leaned forward, his face now merely inches away from hers.

“So,” he said softly, “Miss Cartwright. You claim that your father and I are close friends, but I have never heard of you.”

Gemma’s pulse raced and her hands grew sweaty as she tried to think of a way out of the situation, but no words or ideas sprang to her mind.

The Duke was too close, his presence overwhelming, his scent intoxicating. She could feel the heat radiating from his body and her mind betrayed her for a fleeting moment by wondering what it would be like to have him even closer.

“You,” she managed to choke out, “you should have told me who you were!”

The Duke raised an eyebrow and his lips curled into a half-smile. “And you should have told me who you were, Miss Margaret Cartwright,” he said, the sarcasm in his voice unmistakable.

She bristled, embarrassment and frustration rising within her. “I did not think it was necessary to reveal my true identity to the man who barged in here without so much as an introduction!”

He chuckled softly, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement. “You are inmyhome, sitting inmychair, bymyfireplace,” he said, his voice dangerously low. “If anyone here has failed to introduce themselves, it isyou, my dear intruder.”

Gemma’s hands clenched into fists at her sides, her defiance warring with her overwhelming attraction to this man.

She couldn’t let him have the upper hand, not when she had already lost so much.

“You may be the Duke,” she said, her voice shaking with anger, “but that does not grant you the right to interrogate me as though I were nothing more than a common criminal.”

He leaned forward until his lips were less than an inch away from hers, and Gemma’s breath hitched audibly in her throat. The air between them crackled with tension, and for an instant she thought he intended to kiss her. It was an insane, impossible thought, given the circumstances, but one she couldn’t shake.

“You are not a criminal, Miss Cartwright,” he murmured, his voice sending a shiver down her spine. “But you are, most certainly, no guest of mine.”

Just as the space between them began to disappear, the door to the library flew open and a regal figure swept into the room.

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