Page 64 of Wedded to the Scottish Duke

Watching the Duke of Hardbridge fight so magnificently, when the day before, he had pleasured her with such passion, was a huge contrast. There was something exhilarating about the fact that with her, he could be so different.

“I come here,” she said pointedly. “I watch the fights.” She waved a hand at the ring. “I didn’t know you were going to fight.”

“It was a last-minute decision,” he said, his voice dark and deep.

He stepped toward her, preventing anyone else from moving between them at that moment. He came so close that she found the breath stolen from her body as she looked up at him.

Being so near to him when he wasn’t fully dressed, with his waistcoat loose about his body, reminded her of things she had been trying her best to avoid thinking of.

“Why are ye really here?” he asked. He didn’t blink as he asked the question.

“It’s…” She could have lied, especially when there was such a risk of being overheard, but for some reason, with the Duke of Hardbridge, she didn’t want to lie. “It’s my escape from the ton.”

His lips quirked up, just a little. “Then ye know why I came too.” His voice deepened even further.

The thought that maybe the Duke of Hardbridge wanted to escape the real world for a while made her want to turn back the clock. If they were together in her chamber again, the day after she had been bitten by that adder, she would have pulled him into her arms and embraced him tightly. She wanted to be his escape, to let him know that she would escape the real world with him.

She didn’t say anything of the sort, though. She just continued to stare up at him in wonder.

“What are you trying to escape from?” she asked instead.

He looked away, across the heads of the punters who were now making bets on their next fight. “It doesn’t matter.”

Her gut churned. This was one of the reasons why she could not be so weak as to let him touch her again. When he did and she shed her clothes for him, she wanted toknowhim. All of him. However, he clearly was not going to let her any further into his life.

“Of course, it doesn’t matter,” she said wryly. “That’s why you decided to get in the ring with a man called the Bear. Is life so bad that you’d rather get beaten to a pulp than live?”

“Which of us got beaten to a pulp?” He pointed at his face, showing how there wasn’t a mark on him.

“How did you avoid being hit even once?” she asked in concern, moving toward him.

In the press of the crowd, she hoped her action was hidden, for she couldn’t stop it. She reached out, her fingers tangling in his loose shirt.

“Ye look worried about me, lass.”

She didn’t confirm or deny it. She just continued to hold on to him.

Something in his expression softened.

“I have told ye so many times by now, I’m not an ordinary gentleman.” He winked at her.

She couldn’t stop the smile tugging at her lips, though she flattened it quickly enough.

I will not jump into his bed again, no matter how tempted I am.

“And I’m no ordinary lady, which is why you find me here.” She nodded at the crowd.

His hand moved, nearly touching her own. Fearful that he would press her hand closer to his chest—that she would submit, as she always seemed to do—she snatched her hand way quickly.

“I have to go.” She stepped away from him. “Try not to get yourself killed, Your Grace.”

“I told ye, don’t call me that. Not anymore.”

“It’s your title,” she reminded him as she slipped back into the crowd.

He looked ready to follow her when, suddenly, the ringleader appeared behind him and took hold of his shoulder. He was jerking his head back toward the ring, clearly wanting him to fight again.

Good. If he is fighting, he is not close to me and making me feel…

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