A Duke By Any Other Name

Chapter Six

O wen dashed out of the barn, Thalia secured in his arms, his heart pounding violently in his chest. No, it was more than pounding—it hurt, as if trying to break free from his ribcage. He could scarcely breathe. Each thud was a desperate plea, a primal fear that he might lose her in the worst possible way—death. Panic surged through him, the heat and smoke clawing at his throat, threatening to choke him.

He knew with maddening certainty that he was well and truly lost.

He cleared the door, catching Leeds’s and Harriet’s relieved gazes. “You have this under control?”

Leeds gave a curt nod. “Go.”

“Owen, what are you doing?” Thalia protested, squirming. “Put me down.”

He didn’t stop until they reached her hut. Striding through the partially open door, he kicked it shut and only then set her back on her feet.

“The fire!” she exclaimed, panic still in her voice. “How could you just leave like that?

“It’s under control,” he snapped, his heart still unable to calm its frantic pace. “You, however, are not.”

She drew back, eyes widening in disbelief. “I beg your pardon? What?”

“That’s what I’d like to know!” Owen erupted. “ What possessed you to rush into a burning building?”

She glanced down at the baby fox cradled in her arms. “It’s a life. I saved a life.”

“Devil take it, do you think I don’t know that? But is it more important than yours?”

“That’s not fair, Owen. I had to save it.”

“Why?” he pressed, frustration mounting. By God, the woman had certainly just shaved several decades off his life with her reckless bravery. It was even worse when he learned she had run away. Much worse.

“I just couldn’t! I couldn’t let that fire claim any life.” She paused, her voice lowering. “Hope has to survive, even when hell descends.”

Owen cursed, dragging a hand through his hair, half-surprised it didn’t come away singed. He might well have descended into hell. His knees felt weak, ready to buckle. He plopped down on the bed and lit a candle while she settled the fox in a basket on a chair.

Christ, her feet were muddy, and his socks... ruined. He almost laughed at the absurdity of his thoughts.

He pulled off his socks and tossed them aside. “Come here,” he said once she straightened.

“Why?” Thalia eyed him warily.

“I need to check you for burns,” he said, the words coming out more curtly than intended.

“I’m not burned. I’m truly fine.”

“How do you—”

“Because I’m not in pain , Owen.”

He cursed. Right. She would know best. He needed to calm down.

The bed dipped as she joined him, and she suddenly patted his head. All he wanted to do was grumble— Why my head? —but instead, his pulse quickened, and all he could do was stare. He’d been in denial for so long—perhaps all his life, or at least since he first laid eyes on her—but he couldn’t deny the truth anymore. It didn’t matter whether it had started as brotherly affection, friendship, or something deeper; with her, it was always love—a sensation so fierce it threatened to undo him.

And every time his eyes found her, he fell in love all over again. It was as if the universe conspired to bring him to his knees before her, binding him helplessly to her presence with every glance. And so, he had retreated.

But he wouldn’t retreat anymore.

Not his heart, not his head, and not his soul would allow it. Unable to resist any longer, he leaned in and captured her lips with his in a kiss born from years of being an utter idiot. The pressing question remained: Was he too late?

*

It was too late.

Not too late for a kiss, for showing this man just what he had missed, but too late to turn back time to some point before—before it was all so confused and muddled and awkward. She couldn’t undo her confession or his rejection. Time marched at an unforgiving pace, refusing to stop for anything or anyone. And yet, the time that passed in her heart felt unfathomably slow. And now it seemed almost as if time had hesitated—here, in this moment—just for her. And this... this was everything she ever wanted. Not like earlier—when she had kissed him—now he kissed her first .

Hope and dreams had lived with her these past four years like a distant castle built on clouds, a castle she could never reach. Yet here he was, always when she needed him, always when she wanted him, but never when she asked for him.

Yet for all that, this once, it felt like the universe had conspired in her favor. This might be their only chance, the moment in which reality collided with the fantasy she had nurtured for so long.

Shall I seize it?

Did she even have to consider it? The answer was a resounding yes .

Her hands settled on his shoulders, and, keeping their lips locked, she rose to her knees and shifted onto his lap, straddling him. She melted against him, breathing him in, the smell of smoke and soot clinging to both of them. Her hands wove instinctively into his hair, pulling him closer.

His hand found her waist, firm and steady. “Thalia,” he breathed. “What the devil are you doing to me?”

She loved how low and raspy his voice sounded. “What do you think?”

“You’re killing me,” he muttered.

“Isn’t this what you wanted by kissing me?” She leaned closer, her lips hovering near his. “You even snuck into my bed like a rogue.”

He leaned back slightly, a hint of sheepishness in his eyes. “That, I cannot deny.”

“Then don’t deny me, because as of now, I’m taking what I want.” She didn’t care if they were still cloaked in the sooty remnants of the fire. All she wanted in this very second was him—his lips, his body, everything he was willing to give.

“Christ, I don’t have the strength,” he replied, his hands tightening at her waist.

“Good.” Her nerves suddenly presented themselves in a light bubble of laughter. “Now what do we do?”

“Now...” he hesitated, his eyes searching hers, “we undress?”

“You don’t sound so sure,” Thalia said, her eyes narrowing on the man. From this vantage point on his lap, he looked so impossibly handsome.

“This is you,” he replied, voice low. “So, I’m not.”

Thalia smiled, shrugging off her coat before tugging at the collar of her shirt to undo the ties, then pulling it off in one swift motion. Beneath, she wore only the soft linen of her half-chemise, the delicate garment falling just to her waist, its simple cut offering enough modesty without hindering her movement.

Heat crept up her cheeks as she found herself half-dressed and straddling Owen, her pulse racing at the stunned expression on his face. He drank in the sight of her.

“Christ, Thalia . . .”

Thalia let out a nervous laugh, fingers reaching to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I could say the same about you. Christ, Owen... but aren’t you wearing a bit much?”

He gave her a crooked grin and started fumbling with his shirt, his hands surprisingly clumsy. He glanced up, clearly flustered. “Right. It’s this... angle, I swear.”

Thalia laughed again, more confident this time, and couldn’t resist leaning down to help him. Her hands brushed over his, their fingers tangling as they worked on the few buttons at the top of his shirt. So close to him, she could feel the unsteady rush of his breath on her skin.

Finally, buttons free, he shrugged it off, revealing the chiseled planes of his chest. Her fingers twitched with the desire to trace those lines of muscle. And why not? He was hers for the touching. Her hands went straight to those ridges, trailing over them.

Another dream come true.

He lifted her half-chemise, pulling it up and over her head, letting the fabric fall to the side. His mouth found her breasts, and he groaned, pressing her closer.

Thalia gasped.

With only her trousers left, she leaned back just enough, her body a breath away from his, teasing him as she reached for the buttons at the front. One by one, she slipped them free, her hand tingling at the slight brush of her fingers against his hard abdomen each time. With the last button undone, she shifted her weight, lifting herself slightly off him. The fabric of her trousers tightened as she pulled them down, sliding them over the curve of her hips. Strong, warm hands helped her shrug them off completely.

His eyes were blazing as they met hers.

She met his gaze unflinchingly. “Your turn.”