Page 36 of The Duke's Sinful Bride

Her mind was still reeling from the exchange with Killian. The heat of his gaze, the teasing words that had lingered in the air between them, and the unsettling feeling his proximity had left on her skin all still buzzed in her senses.

She couldn’t shake the warmth that radiated from her chest, nor the strange fluttering in her stomach.

She tried so hard to remind herself that her union with Killian was only a means to an end, but the more she interacted with him, the harder it was to ignore the reality that it… it might be turning into something else.

Something far more complicated, and something she wasn’t sure how to navigate.

Her steps quickened as she tried to clear her head, focusing on the path ahead.

She had promised Maisie she would find Killian and she’d almost forgotten why she’d gone to find him. Her breath caught again, and she pressed a hand to her temple, as if trying to hold the turmoil at bay.

Just then, a soft voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Where’s Papa?” Maisie asked, her large, curious eyes looking up at Yvette.

Yvette blinked, momentarily caught off guard. She had been so wrapped up in her own mind that she hadn’t noticed Maisie there, the little girl’s innocent question snapping her back to the present.

“Oh, that’s right,” Yvette murmured, as if trying to remind herself and offered the girl a reassuring smile. “Your father will be here soon. We need to make sure everything is ready for him before he arrives.”

Maisie’s eyes lit up at the mention of her father, and a quick nod followed.

“I have everything ready,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact, but the joy in her expression made it clear that she was excited.

Yvette’s lips curved into a soft smile, and she gently took Maisie’s hand. “I am glad to hear that. Let us go to the drawing room and wait for him, shall we?”

Maisie nodded enthusiastically, and together, they walked back toward the house.

Yvette tried to hold her thoughts in check as they entered the drawing room, the air inside cooler and more composed.

As Yvette looked around, her gaze landed on a large piece of paper propped up on the easel in the corner. Maisie rushed ahead, eager to show her what she had been working on. Yvette followed, her curiosity piqued.

Maisie had told her the portrait was of Killian, but it was not exactly what Yvette had expected.

It was a depiction of Killian and Maisie alone, their figures drawn in quick, childish strokes. There was a certain warmth to the image, a bond between father and daughter that Yvette couldn’t help but admire.

Yet, as Yvette stood there, staring at the drawing, she couldn’t ignore the small, unexpected sting of emotion that pricked her chest.

She understood it—Maisie only knew her father, and it would take time for the girl to warm up to Yvette. Still, seeing the two of them alone on the paper…

Yvette couldn’t help the feeling that tightened inside her.

She quickly composed herself, her lips curling into a smile as she turned to Maisie. “You did a wonderful job, Maisie. It is a beautiful portrait. I am sure your father will love it.”

Maisie beamed, clearly pleased with the praise. “Do you really think Papa will like it?” she asked, her eyes wide with hope.

Yvette nodded, her voice soft but confident. “Oh, there’s no way he won’t. He’ll be so proud of what you’ve done.”

Maisie clapped her hands together in excitement, her joy infectious. But even as she looked at the portrait with such admiration, Yvette’s thoughts lingered on the absence of her own likeness in the drawing.

She shook her head slightly, trying to rid herself of the bitter taste the thought left in her mouth.

They moved to sit near the fireplace, Yvette carefully taking a seat while Maisie settled beside her.

The two of them waited in silence for Killian’s arrival, their quiet anticipation filling the space.

But the minutes stretched on, and still, Killian did not appear.

Yvette glanced at the clock, her brow furrowing. She had expected him by now, and her nerves began to fray.

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