Page 24 of A Bride for the Wicked Duke

“I never want to see you again.”

“And you won’t,” he assured her. “Once you find a husband. Which you won’t be able to do in your current state.”

“I --”

“Will require instruction. Etiquette lessons. Someone willing to teach you how to behave, at the very least to control that tongue and that temper when in the presence of a gentleman. So far, I see no evidence that you have the self-control for either.”

“You...” She bulked, not certain what he was saying. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not sure...” The duke studied her again, the hunger in his eyes gone, curiosity taking them instead. “But I will.” Then, he stepped back, releasing her suddenly, turning and walking toward his desk. “We are done here.”

“What?” she stammered, taking her first breath in what felt like a lifetime. Her body was running hot. Her legs were trembling. And as to that kiss... it lingered on her lips so that she could still taste the duke.Not that I want to! I... I... I don’t!

“Leave me.” He walked around the desk and sat down. “I have much to think on, and you being here is a concern that we should be glad to escape before anyone finds out.”

She still did not understand. She was still frozen to the spot. She stared stupidly, dumbstruck as she tried to figure out what was going on. What had just happened! “I don’t --”

“Lady Hawkins,” he said simply, perfectly calm, as if he hadn’t just kissed her. “I am asking you to leave. Nicely. Do not test my patience.” A raised eyebrow in warning...

Aurelia could not remember leaving the duke’s office. Or his manor. Or his estate. It wasn’t until she was back on her horse, riding home, that she came back into herself, her mind finally fixing back on what had happened between her and the duke.

They had kissed. He had kissed her... and she had kissed him back. All this time, Aurelia was convinced that she hated the duke and wanted nothing to do with him.I still don’t! The less I see of him the better!This was a truth, at least, although it was a truth for all the wrong reasons.

What on earth had Aurelia gotten herself into?

ChapterEight

"It was pathetic, really,” Victor, the Duke of Blackwood chuckled sardonically. “I am not even exaggerating when I say that the man had tears in his eyes. I almost felt bad for the poor sod. Well, almost,” he snorted. “Pitiful.”

Gerald wasn’t paying his friend any attention, knowing even before the story began that it was one which he would not like to hear. So, he nodded along as if he was listening, while doing what he could to ignore it.

Not that such a thing would have been hard to do, even if he was trying to listen. Such was the frazzled state of Gerald’s mind right now, and how fractured were his senses and ordinarily stalwart composure.

“Needless to say, he will be making payment by the end of the week,” Victory continued proudly. “If not, as he now knows, I will happily see his kneecaps broken. A tad harsh, perhaps, but it is as I told the man. Do not gamble with money you do not have, and such measures will not be taken.” He chuckled and took a sip of his ale. “Is it wrong that a part of me almost hopes he fails to make payment? Let us call it perks of the job.”

“Yes,” Gerald said, still not paying attention. “Nice work.”

“Nice work?” Victor asked, only just now noticing that he was not being listened to. “Gerald, have you heard even a word that I have said.”

“Right, I agree.”

“Urgh.” Victor slapped Gerald on the shoulder, forcing his full attention finally. “Honestly, man, where is your head at!”

“My head...” Gerald blinked, noting the annoyed look on Victor’s face. “What do you mean?”

“All evening, your mind has been elsewhere. Ordinarily, I do not mind it, as it saves me having to put up with your faux-self-righteousness. But I have an amusing story for you, man, and the least you can do is pretend to listen.”

“Concerning broken kneecaps?”

“Ah, so you were listening.”

“Just a guess,” Gerald sighed, turning away from his friend, his mind again drifting. “Such is how predictable you have become.”

From the corner of his eyes, Victor scowled, which had Gerald chuckling. Few men could talk to Victor like that, not if they didn’t want to find themselves on the wrong side of his wrath. Gerald being one of them, because for all of Victor’s posturing, the two men needed each other and it behooved them not to become too antagonistic.

Where Gerald was indeed the brains behind this operation, Victor had long since proved himself to be the much needed muscle. It was this power dynamic that allowed the two to work together without their relationship descending into argument and violence. And Victor was a violent man, let there be no doubt about that. Although Gerald supposed that was why he was so good at the job.

The two men sat together by the bar of Gerald’s gaming house, watching over the patrons who had filtered through the front door tonight, their goal seemingly to lose as much money as they could possibly afford. And often far more than they could. As far as businesses went, there wasn’t another in existence that was so assured of success and profit, even if that was mostly to do with how lowly the entire endeavor was.

---