Page 72 of Any Duke in a Storm

Not everyone fails.

That tiny inner voice was correct in that. Valentine hadn’t. He’d fallen in love with his best friend’s sister, a decade younger than him and still his perfect match. Ravenna, her friend and the Duchess of Ashvale, hadn’t. She’d fallen in love with the only boy she’d ever loved from her childhood, whom she’d thought dead, then found him again years later. Even the estranged Duke of Embry, a man of the sea himself once upon a time, had found the love of his life in a Eurasian princess a continent away.

Love was certainly possible.

It just wasn’t possible forher.

In a state of mild panic, Lisbeth reached deep for her usual well of indifference, but all she felt waiting there was a desperate sanguinity. It was frightening. She’d given her friendship and her body freely, but never anything more. And now he wanted her heart.

Damn,shehad made the inexcusable mistake in allowing things to go this far.

The magical night she had yearned for now felt like a curse.

Lisbeth blew out a breath and released his hand.Shewas in control of her future, not him and not her silly heart that yearned for approval and affection. She was the Countess of Waterstone, espionage agent for the American Treasury. A woman with a history of commendationsunder her belt. A spy who had become countless versions of herself and overcome hundreds of obstacles.

Shelovedherlife.

“I should be getting back,” she said, sitting up, unable to look at him and bear the awful weight on her chest. “I don’t want to worry Bronwyn or Narina.”

There was a beat of silence before she felt the dip of the mattress as he moved to the other side. “Very well.”

There was no rancor in his voice. No hurt. No surprise. No nothing. Just a calm, undisputed acceptance of what she wanted. Suddenly, an inexplicable anger stormed through her. Did he never fight for anything? Would he always concede to her wishes and desires, no matter how hurtful or outrageous? Lisbeth blinked, astonished at herself. Devil take it, was that what she wanted? For him to convince her otherwise?

No, of course she didn’t want that. But if he was truly in love with her as he claimed, wouldn’t he be trying harder to get her to stay? Bloody hell, her head was churning! No wonder people shied away from love or lost themselves because of it.

It was consuming andconfusingin the extreme.

They each dressed in silence, and when it was time for her to lace up the back of her corset and her gown, Raphael did it with gentle fingers and without having to be awkwardly asked. His hands left embers everywhere they made contact with her skin, and Lisbeth had the greatest urge to turn and beg him to pretend the last half hour never happened.

“Thank you,” she whispered instead, and the moment was lost.

“You are welcome,” he replied.

When she was finished with her gloves and once more looked respectable, with all evidence of the sin and stupidity erased from her body, she walked to the door. But before she could open it, Raphael tugged her to face him, hands on her shoulders. That beautiful face was shuttered as he stared at her, but his eyes…those shards of gorgeous moonlight, they glimmered with a compassion and a tenderness she did not deserve.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out before he could speak.

The corner of his lip kicked up. “Don’t be. I could never regret any of this or you,” he said quietly. “I didn’t tell you I’d fallen in love with you because I wanted you to say it back, Lisbeth. I meant it, but something that is true for me might not be true for you. Not yet.” He shrugged. “Maybe not ever. But I didn’t want you not to know how I felt or that tonight wasn’t precious to me.”

“And you think it wasn’t for me?” she shot back, unreasonably hurt.

A muscle flexed in his jaw. “That’s not what I said.”

“So that’s it?” She couldn’t help asking, the earlier bitterness she’d felt still obviously present. “You’ll just let me go?”

“Sometimes you have to set something free and let it choose to come back to you.”

She swallowed hard. “And what if it doesn’t?”What if I don’t?

Lisbeth thought he wasn’t going to answer her, but then he shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers and gave her that lopsided grin of his with a playful wink. “A hundred dollars says it will.”

Entirely confused, she stared at him for a full five seconds before speaking. “Are you actually making a wager right now?”

“I have excellent odds.”

She couldn’t help her puff of disbelief when he lifted his brows in amused challenge, as if they hadn’t been discussing her complete lack of a functioning heart a moment ago. “You are truly impossible,” she muttered as he escorted her to the elevator, though said unfeeling heart felt quite inexplicably warm.

“I believe, Countess, the word you are looking for is ‘impressive.’”

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