Page 14 of A Bride for the Wicked Duke

“I take it this is a bad time.”

Once again, the duke was a little too calm for the situation presented. He did not appear caught by surprise to find Aurelia spilling from her dress. He did not look as if he might retreat or even turn away as most gentleman would do. It was the opposite, in fact.

A picture of coolness, his piercing blue eyes drifted down her body, lingering on her open dress. A smirk pulled at his lips. The hint of a chuckle then escaped them. But still, he remained in the doorway, his large frame taking it up fully so that if she had wanted to escape, she would not have been able to.

“Your Grace!” Aurelia gasped, taking a quick step back into the room as she hurried to cover herself. Of course, she could not, for the tightness of her dress did not allow her to merely pull it across her chest. “What are you --”

“Searching for my sister,” he answered before she finished, even stepping into the room without pause. “Have you seen her?”

“She is not here.” She turned away, blushing furiously.

“Clearly.”

“She is in the garden,” she continued, still with her back to the duke. “I am sure you can find her there.”

Was it anyone else, Aurelia was certain they would have apologized and left quickly. And a man of the duke’s reputation almost certainly should have.But that is not who he really is, which is why I should not be surprised by the way he lingers...

Indeed, lingering is exactly what he did.

With her back turned to the duke, she could feel him watching her. It should have angered Aurelia, enough that she might have turned around and snapped at him. That is what she would have done was it anyone else! Still, she reminded herself how she was supposed to feel about this man, how she had always felt about him for as long as she had known him. But that did her little good.

The duke was not what she had thought, nor was he what he seemed. And where she did not like him, she could not escape that same feeling that had infused her the last time they were alone together, and the time before that. A helplessness which she was drawn to. Trapped and at his mercy... only in a good way.Whatever way that might be...

“I take it that it you are finding a dress to wear for the Malsbury garden party?” the duke said finally.

She scoffed. “That is hardly any of your business.”

“On the contrary...” Behind her, she heard the door close, which set her heart to racing. “It is entirely my business. Until your debt is paid, as far as I am concerned, I own you.”

Her eyes widened at the comment, the presumption of it! Despite the situation, and her less than appropriate fitting, Aurelia turned about and glared at him. “You most certainly do not.”

“Not in the literal sense.” He walked toward her, still wearing that same knowing smirk. Her first instinct was to back up, but she held her grown and pointed her chin up in defiance. “But I am invested in your success, Lady Hawkins. Far more than my sister is, at any rate.”

“I do not need your help,” she sneered at him for no other reason than she felt she should. He was trying to intimidate her, and she would not let him.

“Are you sure about that?” He chuckled as he raised an eyebrow and looked down at her. “From where I am standing, you need all the help you can get.”

“I --”

“This dress...” He spoke over her as he so often did, clicking his tongue as a hand reached up. She gasped and froze, no idea what he meant to do. Her heart leaping through her throat, the urge to scream upon her, clashing brilliantly with another, far darker thought... “It is not the one.”

“What do you --” She stammered as his fingers wrapped around the lace of the corset. “What do you mean?”

“It does not suit you,” he said, still fingering the lace. “Or your body type.”

Again, rage infused her. “How dare you!”

“Did I say something wrong?”

“Everything,” she hissed. “It is funny, Your Grace, but all this time I have hated you for the wrong reasons. My belief being that you were far too proper and therefore boring for my liking. Now, I see it is the opposite.”

“Oh?”

“You are a wicked sort,” she continued hotly. Deep down, she knew she should have taken a step back and then told him to leave. But she stayed where she was, right in front of him, almost on him. “Not becoming of your station. A stain on it, as I see it.”

He frowned. “And this comes from you?”

“What does that mean!”

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