Chapter 27
Her brown eyes were fixed on the imposing figure still standing a few feet away.
Seeing the look in his eyes, she knew what he would have done if the child hadn’t been there. Something devastating and titillating at once.
But, before her thoughts could wander any further, he broke the silence.
“She adores you,” he mumbled.
She looked up at him, having not expected him to say that, especially with the kind of softness that stripped him bare. For a fleeting moment, she felt as though she were staring into the very heart of him.
“She only… She only wants to be seen. And loved,” she responded, her voice trembling slightly before steadying with quiet insistence.
“When she draws, praise her, even if the sketch is nothing but crooked lines. When she waters the flowers, tell her she has done well, even if she soaks her dress in the process. When she cleans her room or pricks her fingers trying to embroider…” Her eyes softened, molten brown locking on piercing blue.
“She is trying so hard to make you proud. She deserves to know that she already does.”
The words struck him harder than he had expected. He had thought himself unreadable, like a stone fortress. But at that moment, he could not hide his passion. And that broke through his walls and reached something raw inside him.
Percival knew that he should look away. In fact, he should turn around and say something cutting. End it the way he always did before it unraveled him.
Instead, he smiled. Not the faint, polite twitch he showed society, but a genuine, unguarded smile.
When Aurelia saw the corner of his mouth lift and his gaze soften, her heart fluttered, and heat bloomed low in her belly.
“You should smile more,” she blurted before she could stop herself. “Do you know that you have the loveliest dimples? They only appear when you stop trying to hide your real self.” Her words faded into a whisper.
Something flickered in his eyes, something dangerous. Then again, he moved toward her, slowly and deliberately. He only stopped when the space between them had shrunk, such that she could feel his warmth.
“Dimples?” he teased huskily.
However, the storm underneath was evident. Evident with every sweep of his eyes that felt like a caress, stripping her layer by layer without a single touch.
“I doubt they are half as lovely as the dress you’re wearing,” he murmured, his voice lowering further.
Aurelia shivered at the unexpected compliment. She swallowed, unable to decide whether to step back or sink into him.
But then he made matters worse by leaning closer.
She blinked. He was certainly acting differently. Bold and dangerous. In a way that made her nervous with excitement.
“Or half as tempting—” His voice dropped to a heated whisper. “—as the way you look right now.”
The words rushed like molten fire through veins, fierce and intoxicating. She tried to speak, tried to laugh it off, remind herself that she was a duchess, not a trembling debutante.
But no sound came out. Her lips parted in silent surrender, her body betraying her with desperate breaths.
And he drank in every part of her reaction. The wild blush on her cheeks, the subtle flutter at her throat, and the hot need in her brown eyes that she tried so hard to conceal.
Aurelia wasn’t sure if she could survive his stare. Every inch of him, from his broad shoulders to his strong legs, was temptation itself.
She was rooted to the spot, unable to flee, unable to speak, trembling. Though her lips parted to speak, the words remained stuck in her throat.
“Duke…” she breathed.
She tried to suck in a breath, tried to collect herself, but it was useless.
Still, she managed in a voice no louder than a whisper, “You…” Her gaze dropped for the briefest second before rising to his. “You should not say such things.”
Percival tilted his head, his lips curving, but not into a smile this time. “And why not?” His voice was husky, every syllable hinting at danger.
“Because…” she hesitated.
She could hardly admit the truth, that his words shattered her composure. That they made her heart ache and her body burn.
“Because you see what it does to me.”
There. That was it, the shameless honesty.
Percival’s body tightened. His eyes darkened, and at that moment, he wanted nothing more than to prove to her exactly what she did to him.
The images flashing through his mind were indecent. Images of Aurelia spread beneath him, gasping his name, arching into his hands.
His cock swelled, straining against his trousers. It took every ounce of his discipline not to claim her right then and there.
His jaw clenched before he let out a breath. “And you think I am not affected?” he asked in a low growl as intimate as a confession.
Her breath caught, and her eyes searched his face, desperate for some hidden meaning.
“You look at me like I don’t burn too,” he murmured, but the tension in his tone betrayed him. “But I do, Aurelia. Every hour, every minute, I battle the fire inside me. And every time you smile at me…” He bit his lip.
He had more to say, but he held back because his thoughts were too dangerous to voice.
Nonetheless, his words were enough to make her knees tremble. She had never heard him confess that much before.
With her chest tight, she dared to whisper. “Then why stop yourself?”
Her question hung between them. It was too reckless for him.
He stared at her, unmoored, as if the entire world had disappeared. For a moment, it seemed like he might confess everything: his fears, his hunger, his hot need. Instead, his gaze dropped, his lips pressing together into a thin line.
“You should go,” he said thickly. “Freshen up. Rest. Eat. You must be exhausted from the journey.”
And yet his hand betrayed him again, rising slowly to brush her cheek with exquisite slowness, as if he meant to memorize the shape of her face. Her eyes fluttered shut at the caress, her lips parting on a trembling breath.
“You say such practical words,” she whispered, daring to lean into his touch. “And yet you touch me as though I belong to you.”
“You do,” he answered before he could stop himself.
Silence followed.
Stunned, Aurelia’s lips parted, but no reply came. Her heart was beating so fast that she feared he might hear it.
Then, as if the moment was too dangerous, Percival dropped his hand. “Rest, Aurelia,” he said, more tenderly now.
Aurelia swallowed, her throat tight. “Yes,” she breathed, her voice fragile.
“Percival,” her voice came out quietly.
But it was enough to make him pause.
“I hope… you know what you do to me,” she mumbled, her cheeks burning with shame.
For one long, tense second, Percival didn’t move. Then, his shoulders stiffened, and with a low, rough sound in the back of his throat, he left.
Aurelia stood there, her chest heaving, her knees weak. The space he left behind felt hollow and cold. She already ached for him, his touch, his heat, the hunger in his eyes.
She released a ragged breath before forcing herself toward her chambers. The moment the door shut behind her, her composure shattered. She pressed her back against the wood, breathing hard as though she had run a mile.
Gently, her fingers brushed her cheek where Percival had touched her. She smiled, wild and helpless.
Her eyes flickered to the mirror in the distance, staring back at her reflection. She could see her flushed cheeks and the hot gleam in her eyes.
Her smile widened, before she dropped her forehead into her palm. “What is happening to me?” she whispered aloud.
Her reflection seemed to mock her, looking like a woman undone by her husband.
“Why does my body tremble at his voice?” she murmured. “Why do my lips ache for his kiss? Why does my heart… swell so?”
Her fingers brushed her lips again, recalling the way he had almost bent to her and kissed her.
And the worst part?
She closed her eyes, her breath growing unsteady.
I don’t even want to fight it anymore. I don’t want to hide it. I don’t want to resist.
Heart hammering, she released a shaky laugh that was half-mad with need. Then, looking at herself, her voice broke with the truth. “I am in love with him.”