Page 45 of In Need of a Duke
As promised, Charlotte rode with care. But that didn’t stop her from revisiting the spot where her accident happened.
But as she approached, she was shocked to discover she was not alone.
The wall that she had failed to jump over was nearly leveled. The duke was taking it apart stone by stone and stacking them off to the side.
His head snapped up as she approached, his dark eyes nearly burning her.
“What are you doing?” he snapped. “Have you gone mad?”
He threw off his work gloves and stormed forward. He was so achingly beautiful that for a moment, Charlotte forgot she should be furious.
“Andbreeches?”
“No one else is here,” she shot back. With a slow inhale, she dismounted and met him halfway. “What have you done?”
His brow furrowed. “You shouldn’t be riding. Who allowed you…”
“I am the damn duchess, Ian. I will ride if I wish.”
He scoffed, throwing his hands to his hips and looking back at the wall.
“Is this where you have been hiding? You’re rebuilding the wall?”
“You nearly died the last time you rode.”
“Because you chased me down.” Charlotte squared her shoulders. “And that’s reason enough not to ride ever again? Why are you rebuilding the wall?”
“I rode back with you in my arms, nearly dead. I don’t want you on another horse again.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Why do you care? You hate me.”
He exhaled, stepping even closer until they were nearly chest to chest. The tension buzzed between them. “Hate you?”
“Yes, you hate me. Why else would you have left me?”
His eyes flared open.
“Why are you here rebuilding the wall?”
He didn’t answer.
“You’re impossible,” she shouted, stepping around him to examine the missing wall. Except he reached over and gently gripped her arm to spin her around.
“I don’t want you here. You should be home.”
“Which is it? You asked me to give you through the summer, then I happen upon you, and you tell me to leave? You can’t lock me away?—”
“Good, you’re angry. You should be angry…”
She wrenched her hand free and glared at him. “I am furious, but I’ve never been allowed to be angry.”
He gestured for her to continue.
She balled her fists and attempted to ignore the way his shirt hung loosely on his body, but his sleeves were rolled up to expose strong forearms. Or the way his skin was glistening with sweat, and his dark hair fell across his face giving him a rather rakish appearance.
The cold duke she so often pictured over the years didn’t stand before her now, his face etched in pain. He was as familiar as untouchable.
“Why are you rebuilding the wall? Ian, I need one truth. Please. You can shut everyone else out, but if you wish for me to give you a chance, you need to let me in. I need?—”
