Page 49 of Claiming his Cursed Duchess
“Rosaline…” He leaned in, close enough that he could feel her breath against his skin, his hand now trailing lightly down her arm.
“Adam…” she whispered, his name sounding like a plea and a warning all at once.
It broke the spell. He drew back sharply, his chest tightening with restraint.
“You should rest,” he said, his tone clipped. “Tomorrow will be another long day.”
Rosaline blinked, obviously startled by the sudden shift. She hesitated, then inclined her head with a carefully neutral expression.
“As you say, Your Grace.”
She turned and walked ahead, but Adam remained rooted in place, staring after her. His jaw tightened as he shoved his hands into his pockets, his fingers curling into fists.
Whatever this was—this pull between them—it was dangerous.
And yet, he couldn’t seem to resist stepping closer to the flame.
Chapter Sixteen
“Whoa!” Rosaline gasped as the carriage lurched violently, its wheels striking a deep pothole with a deafening thud that rattled through the entire vehicle.
Rosaline was thrown against the opposite seat with a force that stole the breath from her lungs.
For a split second, her world seemed to tip, everything spinning wildly as if gravity itself had betrayed her. Her breath hitched sharply in her throat, and a panic-stricken gasp escaped her lips. Her heart hammered fiercely against her chest, a frantic rhythm that seemed to echo in time with the memory of a far darker, far more terrifying moment from her past.
The carriage accident—its violent impact, the twisting of metal, the cacophony of screaming voices, the weight of a wreck that had cost her everything—flashed before her eyes.
“Rosaline,” a muffled voice tried to wiggle through the vision.
For a moment, she could almost feel it all over again. The searing pain, the unrelenting fear, the crushing weight of the wreck. Her family—gone.
“Rosaline. Come back to me,” the voice said again, this time sharper.
A sudden change in the carriage’s movement caught her off guard, snapping her out of her thoughts. Her breath stilled when she realized that the duke was now watching her intently, his gaze sharper than ever. It was as if he had sensed her inner turmoil, though no words had been exchanged between them.
She noticed his lips barely moving as he spoke to the driver, his low voice grating against the air, but Rosaline couldn’t focus on the words. Her mind was elsewhere—on the wave of unease that gripped her whenever his eyes lingered too long.
Her gaze shifted to him, quickly noting his posture. His broad shoulders were set with the same rigid control that marked every other part of him. His frame, tall and commanding, exuded a quiet power that could turn a room cold with just a glance.
Yet there was something else in his posture, something faintly vulnerable in the tightness of his jaw, the way his hand gripped the side of the seat. It made her heart beat just a little faster. She couldn’t help but wonder what it was that made this powerful man seem so…human.
“Look at me. Focus on me,” he leaned forward, his movements fluid and deliberate, a silent question hanging in the air between them, as his hand hovered near her cheek.
“It’s all right. You’re all right,” he said.
His fingers trembled, just slightly, as if he were unsure whether to offer comfort or to pull away. But then, without hesitation, his hand gently traced the delicate curve of her jaw.
The touch was brief, but it was enough. A shock of electricity shot through Rosaline’s body. She froze, her breath catching in her throat as her heart raced in time with the realization that no one had ever touched her like that.
Her body reacted instinctively, tensing, pulling back, as though to protect herself from the overwhelming sensation that now seemed to invade her every sense.
She could not pull away, could not move. His fingers lingered on her skin, a warmth that was as exhilarating as it was terrifying. The sensation was electric, powerful, like a spark in dry tinder, igniting something deep inside her.
Adam, however, seemed unaware of the effect his touch had on her. He simply turned his head slightly, his eyes turning to the passing countryside outside the carriage window.
“How did you…how did you know?” were the only words that could come out of her mouth.
His voice was low, calm, and steady, as if his earlier moment of intimacy had never happened.
