Page 33 of The Duke Who Dared Me
But when she turned toward the door, his fingers brushed against her wrist.Maybe, even accidentally.It stopped her cold.
“Verity.”Her name on his lips was barely a whisper.
She didn’t turn around.Couldn’t.Because if she looked at him now, she’d do something foolish.Something that would prove he was right about ruining her.
“I know,” she said.
And that was the problem.She knew exactly what he meant, exactly what he wanted, exactly what would happen if she let him.The knowing was going to destroy them both.
* * *
Alistair stoodoutside Percy’s study door, one hand braced against the carved wood panel, the other scrubbing over his face as his friend wrapped Verity into a tight embrace.
“You must be exhausted,” she said, stepping back from her brother.She wiped a hand over his forehead.
The housekeeper brought in a small tea service, then scurried out.
“Marina is sleeping now, as is the nursemaid.It’s been a long few days.”
“He’s going to be well.I know it.”Verity glanced toward Alistair, then diverted her gaze back to her feet.
She was right, of course.He had been pretending nothing happened between them.It was easier than denying how much he wanted to touch her, wanted to hold her, and comfort her about Colin as she stood over his crib and cried with relief.
And the most hellish of it all was that, somehow, he could still feel her in his arms.Remember the soft hitch in her breath when she came apart, the way she’d trusted him to show her pleasure.
The guilt gnawed at his ribs.She didn’t belong to him.Not really.And she deserved more than some sordid interlude as she waited to find a husband.Or Alistair found a wife.
The wager was ridiculous from the start.But now, he never wanted it mentioned between them again.
Verity deserved everything, and Alistair was losing control of the situation.
“Tunstall?”Percy stood there, looking ten years older than he had the last time they’d seen one another.
He blinked a moment, then stepped inside the small study.Verity already sat curled in one of the leather armchairs.She looked impossibly small there, her dark hair tumbling over her shoulder, her expression carefully unreadable.
Her eyes met his once, then darted away.
Right.So this was what pretending looked like.
Percy poured a generous splash of scotch into two glasses and handed one to Alistair.“Fever broke early this morning.”
“I’m glad,” Alistair said and meant it.“You scared the hell out of us.We came as quickly as we could, but the roads were a damn mess last night with the storm.”
Percy nodded, leaning against the desk.“I know.I didn’t know who else to send for after the doctor.I… I panicked.I’m surprised you both came.”
“You did the right thing.”Alistair took a slow sip, letting the burn anchor him.He avoided adding anything further.He had been surprised for weeks after kissing Verity that he didn’t hate her, either.
“It was a herculean feat, but I remained civil,” Verity added, sitting up and reaching for her teacup.
Percy sighed, then kicked his feet up on his desk, and glanced between his sister and best friend.To his credit, he didn’t ask about the tension hanging between the two of them.But he saw it.Alistair could tell by the way he kept cutting glances between them, his mouth twitching like he was biting back a dozen questions while he prattled on about the doctor.
“Lady Clara sent an invitation to Marina earlier in the week,” Percy said casually.“I wouldn’t be surprised if you receive one as well.I think she wants to be in our good graces.”
Alistair’s grip on his glass tightened.“Did she?”
“Said she’d be delighted to see Verity and Marina at the Amberly dinner later this week.”
He could feel Verity go still across the room.
