Page 60 of A Duke to Steal Her
Ambrose laughed, the sound warm and rich. “Such sharp words from such sweet lips.” His gaze fell to the abandoned book beside her. “What have we here?‘The Mysteries of Udolpho’? How delightfully gothic.”
Before Emily could protest, he reached for the novel, his fingers brushing hers as he lifted it from the seat. She jerked her hand back as though burned.
“Let’s see what has so thoroughly captured your attention.” He opened the book to where she’d marked her place and began to read aloud in that low, velvet voice that seemed to vibrate through her bones.
“There was something in his voice that thrilled through her frame and raised ideas which had never till then occurred to her.” His eyes lifted to meet hers as he continued. “She felt as if she was in a new world, where different laws prevailed, andwhere she might dare to think and feel as she had never thought and felt before.”
Emily’s breath caught. The way the words slipped off his lips, so intimate, so knowing…
“Your Grace, please—” Emily’s skin prickled with awareness.
“His eyes held a dark promise that both terrified and enthralled her.” He paused to lick his lips, his gaze never leaving her face. “She knew she should flee from such dangerous thoughts, yet she found herself drawn ever closer to the flame.”
The room suddenly felt stifling. The fabric of the settee scratched at the back of her legs. He knew exactly what he was doing—and she hated that it worked.
“Is that truly the line?” she asked, forcing lightness into her voice as she snatched the book from his hands and closed it with more force than necessary.
Ambrose leaned back in his chair, casual, predatory. “I may have taken a few liberties.”
“I see.” Her voice was tight. “Well, consider your liberties revoked.”
She stood abruptly, skirts swishing as she moved for the door.
But his voice slid after her like silk over steel.
“Running away again, Emily? How unlike the brave woman I thought I married.”
She halted at the threshold, hand clenched on the doorframe. “I’m not running. I’m removing myself from a conversation I no longer find worth having.”
“Oh, but I think you do. I think you find it far too worth having, and that’s the trouble.” He rose, slow and deliberate. “Tell me—do you tremble like this when you read alone? Or only when I’m the one whispering danger into your ear?”
Emily turned to face him fully, her cheeks flushed, her chin high. “You presume far too much.”
He stopped just short of her, his eyes gleaming. “And you hide far too well. Behind etiquette. Behind silence. Behind duty. But I know what I saw before—what Iseenow.”
Her pulse pounded in her ears. She wanted to slap him. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to scream.
Instead, she said, “For someone so obsessed with masks, Your Grace, you’re surprisingly careless about the ones you wear yourself.”
Then she walked away—fast, heart racing, vision too bright. But she did not run.
This time, she made surehewas the one left burning.
Over the following days, Emily threw herself into her duchess duties with renewed determination. She reviewed household accounts, planned menus, visited the village school, and corresponded with various charitable organizations. Each moment was scheduled with tasks that were executed with precision.
But underneath the perfect facade, something restless stirred.
She couldn’t ignore the flutter in her stomach when Ambrose entered a room, or the way her pulse quickened when he spoke her name. There was a shameful awareness of his presence that seemed to electrify the very air around her.
She tried to ignore it, this growing hunger that had nothing to do with food and everything to do with the way he’d looked at her while reading those damning words. The memory of his thumb against her lip haunted her quiet moments. The heat in his green eyes when he’d tasted the chocolate from her skin.
Emily had always prided herself on her self-control, her ability to maintain proper composure regardless of circumstance. But this… this was different. This was a yearning that went beyond duty, beyond the careful performance of being the perfect duchess.
I want you, you damnable man.Pure and simple and terrifying.
That evening, Emily was reading in bed when a knock echoed from the connecting door.
She got up and opened it to find Ambrose in the doorway, his green eyes immediately darkening.
