Page 30 of Claiming his Cursed Duchess
“I apologize for my staff’s behavior,” Adam said, his voice softening. “Do not let their ignorance bring you down.”
Rosaline’s heart swelled with gratitude.
“As for you,” Adam turned his attention back to the staff, his voice sharp, “I expect you to treat Her Grace with the respect and dignity she deserves. Any future acts of disrespect or superstition will not be tolerated.”
“Now, take care of that wound,” he commanded. “And remember, actions speak louder than words.”
As Adam turned to leave, his gaze lingered on Rosaline for a moment longer. She could feel the intensity of his gaze, the unspoken promise of something more.
“Thank you, Your Grace. However I should be able to defend myself,” Rosaline told him.
Adam paused, a slow smile curving his lips.
“Indeed?” He raised an eyebrow, a challenge in his gaze. “Perhaps a demonstration is in order, Duchess. I am always eager to witness a display of your spirited independence.”
Rosaline felt a blush creep up her neck. “I…I meant…I don’t need anyone to protect me.”
“Oh?” Adam leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low rumble. “And what if I insist?”
He reached out a hand, his fingers brushing against her arm. A jolt, raw and unexpected, shot through her.
Rosaline pulled back, her breath catching. “I…I don’t know what you mean.”
Adam chuckled, the sound low and amused. “Don’t you? I believe we both know exactly what I mean, Duchess.”
He stepped closer, his gaze sweeping over her, from the defiant tilt of her chin to the way her breasts rose and fell beneath the silk of her gown.
Rosaline felt a shiver crawl down her spine. She wanted to deny it, to push him away, but the truth was, she wanted him. She wanted to feel the heat of his gaze, the touch of his hands, to explore the dangerous depths of the desire that simmered between them.
“I only protect what is mine, Duchess. And you…you are mine.Youbelong tome,” he said, his voice a silken thread.
Rosaline felt a thrill course through her. She wanted to lean in, to taste the promise of his lips, to lose herself in the intoxicating heat of his gaze. But she held back, a flicker of fear battling with the overwhelming desire.
Adam smiled, a slow, predatory smile that sent shivers down her spine.
“And when you are ready, I will show you that you are mine,” he murmured, his voice a silken caress.
He turned and walked away, his gaze lingering on her over his shoulder.
“That is a promise.”
Rosaline watched him go, her heart pounding like a drum.
She was left breathless, shaken, and utterly captivated.
Chapter Eleven
“You are alone,” Rosaline observed, her voice barely a whisper as she stumbled upon the duke after wandering through the gardens.
Days had turned into weeks, and the estate walls seemed to close in on her. The whispers, the averted gazes, the superstitious fear—it was all too much.
She sought solace in her books, her garden, and the quiet company of her thoughts. But the loneliness was a constant companion, a shadow that followed her everywhere.
Adam was sitting on a stone bench, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon.
The setting sun cast a golden glow upon his features, softening his usually stern expression. She paused, her eyes tracing the lines of his face.
He is handsome. Undeniably so,she thought, a blush creeping up her cheeks.
