Page 7 of The Duke's Accidental Wallflower
Minerva narrowed her eyes, her jaw clenched tight. “You have no right to speak to me this way.”
Evan’s gaze softened slightly, though the playful gleam never fully left his eyes. “Perhaps,” he conceded, his voice still smooth, “but you have not exactly left, have you?”
Her cheeks flushed with a mix of anger and something she refused to name. “I am trapped with you, Your Grace, not by choice.”
“Trapped?” He chuckled softly, a sound that sent a warm ripple through the silence. “I think if you really wanted to leave, you would have tried a bit harder by now.”
Minerva’s mouth parted in a sharp retort, but the words did not come. She hated how he twisted everything, how he used that smooth charm to make her second-guess herself, to make her...feel. And the worst part was, some traitorous part of her did not want to leave. Some part of her was caught up in the heady mix of his scent, his insufferable attitude, and the proximity that blurred all sense of reason.
“You must step back, Your Grace,” she ordered, though her voice lacked the firm conviction she wanted it to carry.
Instead of complying, Evan remained exactly where he was, his gaze holding hers steadily. “You think it is as terrible as you imagine, do not you?” he murmured, his voice soft and teasing. “A kiss. Something so simple. You think it would ruin everything.”
Minerva’s heart pounded in her chest, the words catching in her throat. She did not want to hear this, did not want him to make light of the very thing she had been protecting her sister from all evening. And yet, his voice, that low, deep rumble, was pulling her in, daring her to let go of the rigid control she always clung to.
“I think,” she whispered, her breath catching slightly, “that you should let me go.”
But even as she said the words, her hands remained at her sides, her body betraying her by refusing to push him away. She hated him for that, hated the way he made her feel so out of control, so vulnerable and confused.
Evan’s lips quirked up again, his eyes glinting with that maddening charm. “If that is truly what you want...”
He leaned in just slightly, his breath warm against her skin. Every inch of Minerva’s body was taut, her heart thundering so loudly she was sure he could hear it.
“Then leave,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “The door’s right there.”
Minerva’s mind spun, her thoughts tangled in a web of confusion and frustration. The door was indeed right there. She could simply open it, walk out, and escape from him, from this insane moment, from the confusing mess of emotions swirling inside her.
But she did not move.
She stood there, trapped between the shelves and the Duke, her chest rising and falling with every shaky breath. And in that moment, she hated that a part of her did not want to run, that a part of her wanted to stay and find out what it was like to let go, to feel something wild and reckless. Just once.
Her voice was barely above a whisper when she finally spoke. “You think you can charm your way out of anything, do you not?”
Evan smiled softly, his eyes holding hers. “Not everything.”
Evan’s smile softened as the tension between them thickened. The air felt charged, heavy with the words left unsaid, with the unspoken challenge that hung between them. His hand movedwith deliberate slowness as he reached up, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Minerva’s breath caught as his fingers brushed her skin, light as a whisper, yet the sensation sent a shock of warmth down her spine.
His thumb lingered, brushing softly over her jawline, his touch both gentle and deliberate, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. It was disarming, completely unlike the calculated, roguish behavior she had expected from him. There was something about the way he looked at her, something she couldn’t define, that left her reeling, unable to catch her breath.
What is it about him?she wondered desperately, her mind spinning. How was it that this man—this arrogant, infuriating man—could make her feel so unmoored?
Minerva clenched her hands into fists, her nails digging into her palms as she fought for control. She needed to stop this. Now.
With a sudden, desperate movement, she pushed past him, her shoulder brushing against his chest as she forced herself out of the suffocating closeness. She stumbled slightly in her haste to put distance between them, but she straightened quickly, drawing herself up to her full height and turning to face him with as much dignity as she could muster.
“No thanks,” she said, her voice sharper than she intended, though she was trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. “I am quite content.”
Evan blinked, clearly taken aback by her sudden shift in tone. For a moment, a look of surprise crossed his face, but it was quickly replaced by that infuriatingly calm expression of his.
Minerva quickly turned the handle and slipped out of the closet, the door closing softly behind her. As she stepped into the quiet of the library, the air suddenly felt cooler, less oppressive.
But as she walked quickly toward the exit, her mind raced, and the unsettling truth settled deep in her chest.
She wasn’t “content”. She was unsettled, irritated, furious.
Minerva hurried down the corridor, her heart still racing, her mind spinning from the encounter she’d just had. She did not dare glance back, even though she could feel Evan staring into her back. Her breath came in shallow bursts, and she pressed a hand to her chest, trying to calm the tumult inside her.
Compose yourself, Minerva,she told herself sternly. But it wasn’t easy to push aside the emotions still swirling through her—emotions she had no business feeling. Not forhim.
