Page 6 of Trapped with her Cruel Duke

The lady went utterly still, her lips pressed into a thin line. Her tongue then darted out to wet her full lips. The fire in her eyes was unmistakable, but Christian would not apologize for another man’s weakness.

“If you are incapable of securing a mistress, Your Grace, then perhaps you should?—”

He raised a hand to silence her. “I am not looking for a mistress.”

She turned to fully face him, and his eyes ran appreciatively over her curves. “Did you not offer a high enough price, perhaps?” Her voice dripped with derision.

“I am not looking for a mistress, and your father did not have a say in how much Ipaid. You are going to be my wife.”

She laughed. It was a high, melodic laugh, and the force of it surprised him. That was not the reaction he had expected from a lady whose father had used her to settle a debt.

I would give anything to know what is going on in that head of hers.

“You may think me cruel, I am sure,” he added, straightening his waistcoat uncomfortably, “but I mean you no harm. You are simply a means to an end. I need you in order to find my brother.”

The laughter died on her lips, and her eyes flicked to his own. There was interest in them now and an urgent sort of hope.

Christian had always wondered if she and his brother were more than friends, but her expression gave nothing away.

“Given the fact that you are Marcus’s friend, I felt you would be agreeable to the idea. After all, it was either me or one of the other odious men who attempted to… purchase you. I have protected you from them, at least.”

“How thoughtful of you. Tell me, did you bargain long on the amount? I would be interested to know which amount Father considered. Fifty pounds would have probably discharged the troublesome burden of a daughter, I wager.” She smoothed the front of her dress. “I do not need your protection, Your Grace, nor did I ask for it.”

Christian walked further into the room and leaned against his desk, watching her silently. The pause seemed to unsettle the lady, and she shifted her weight from foot to foot, scowling at him.

“If you are planning to use me to get back at my father because of your ridiculous rivalry, then you?—”

“Careful, Lady Louise. If I were planning touseyou, I would certainly lie about it. I have instead told you the truth. Do I want to get back at your father? Only if he had something to do with my brother’s disappearance. Do I hateyouspecifically? I would not say so. I have never given you much thought except for the strength of your arm.”

Her eyes hardened instantly, and Christian felt a thrill at the sight. Something about riling her was very pleasing.

“The strength of myarmhas never been in question. The strength of a man’s character, on the other hand…” She ran her eyes from his feet to the top of his head.

Christian had to fight not to smile.

“I do not doubt it. I am sure I have greatly impressed you with my character, given the circumstances, but there is little to be done about it. A deal between gentlemen will be upheld. Your father has run out of cards to play.”

“Why?” She shook her head in frustration. “Why has he done this? And more importantly, why would you agree to it? It cannot simply be for your brother’s sake.”

“You do not wish for him to be found?”

“More than anything, but that is not up to me. You would ally yourself with a man you hate, who has sneered at you behind your back all your life? It does not make sense to me.”

“Would you prefer to be my mistress? Is that it?” Christian asked, pushing off the desk and taking a few steps toward her.

She stepped back a pace, her gaze flicking to the door. “I will not be a pawn in your games, Sir, no matter whatagreementyou may have in place.”

“The agreement is that you will become my wife, and you had better warm up to the idea if you do not wish to be destitute.”

“Warm up to the idea? And how am I supposed to do that? I am the Ice Queen, remember?” She turned on the spot, allowing him an even better view of her exquisite figure.

He stepped closer, and when she returned to face him again, she sucked in a sharp breath at his proximity. Christian waited to see if she would back away, but she stood her ground.

A single lock of hair had come loose and hung down beside her ear; it had been driving him mad since she entered the room.

“You cannot only be made of ice,” he murmured, slowly lifting his hand, capturing the strand between his fingers, and tucking it beneath one of the ribbons.

She froze, staring at him as though he were quite mad.

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