Page 46 of A Virgin for the Duke of Ash

Eventually, her sobs ceased, and her breathing evened out, interrupted only by the occasional hiccup.

“You must find me laughable right now,” she wept. Her lower lip trembled even as she managed to pout. “An absolute laughingstock.”

Daniel would have laughed at how adorable the display was if he did not feel as if a knife had been brutally inserted into his chest and twisted with deliberate slowness.

“I do not know what came over me. I think it’s the smell of smoke,” she continued. “I have been like this ever since… ever sincethat night.”

That night.

Those words echoed hollowly in his heart.

More than half a decade ago, Colin had ended his Grand Tour of Europe when the news that an entire wing of Blackthorn Estate was badly burned reached them. It would have hardly mattered to him, but his parents had both perished in the fire, although there had been no other casualties.

Daniel had thought it strange, back then, that not even a servant died, but the Duke and his Duchess never made it out.

Whenever anyone talked of such a tragedy, they mostly forgot that there had been one other survivor who lived to tell the harrowing tale of that night.

Evie had survived that fire, but Daniel had never learned how she managed to get out when the fire razed what should have been her rooms as well.

Judging from her current state, she did not manage to do so easily. There were scars that were invisible to the naked eye but were no less as horrifying—and these were the scars she now bore.

“I swear that I shall never let anything bad happen to you,” he promised her softly, holding her in his arms as if she were a child. “But, sweetheart, if you open your eyes, you might see that there is a sense of beauty in the display, and you might find some inspiration for your paintings.”

She choked on a laugh. “You truly think I can paint.”

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “If you say you can, then you can. I would like to see anyone who dares try to say otherwise.”

She tilted her head to look at the fireworks, her body stiff as a board. As flowers of light burst in the night sky, he could feel her relaxing in his arms, her body becoming more pliant.Warm.

“You are right,” she whispered. “It is very beautiful, indeed.”

Nowhere near as beautiful as you.

Her eyes were wide with wonder, as if she was discovering beauty for the first time. Her lips, slightly parted, seemed to invite him for a taste.

Or a feast.

Daniel groaned inwardly at the direction of his thoughts. He already knew that he would not stop at a taste. He would crave more of her, devouring her until not even her soul remained.

They sat there for some time—her, enjoying the fireworks for the first time in half a decade, and him, simply enjoyingherawed delight.

“That… that was not so bad,” she admitted shyly. “I think I might have enjoyed it?—”

Suddenly, a look of horror flashed across her face, and he worried that she might have remembered something else when she said something that provoked his ire.

“Oh my God, Mr. Turner!” she gasped, scrambling out of his arms.

He pinched her chin with his thumb and forefinger and tilted her face up to meet his gaze.

“You are not to utter another man’s name in my presence,” he growled threateningly at her. “Ever.”

Her brow furrowed. “Or else what?”

“Or else you will have a man’s blood on your hands, sweetheart,” he said coldly. “Is that what you want?”

Evie, however, simply rolled her eyes and jerked her chin out of his grasp. “Goodness,” she muttered. “I never knew you were so dramatic!”

Daniel was not joking. Sheer bloodlust was rushing through his veins right now, and if she dared to defend the man again, he was going to head back and break every bone in that bloody painter’s body.

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