Chapter 3
“Iwant you to ruin me.”
Hyacinth couldn’t quite believe what had just fallen from her lips.
For a breathless moment, the words echoed between them. It was scandalous and impossible. She couldn’t believe she had said it. Couldn’t believe she had meant it.
Yet… she did.
For a long moment, the world seemed forgotten. The soft hum of music from the parlor so close to them seemed miles away. Even the candlelight appeared to dim.
Their surroundings continued to narrow until it was just him standing before her with that inscrutable expression.
The Duke said nothing. Not right away. Only a flicker in those green eyes betrayed him. Surprise, yes, but something else too. Something sharper. Something deep.
His gaze touched her mouth like a kiss, then rose slowly, still studying her as if she were not a woman, but a dare.
And Hyacinth totally understood his confusion. If she weren’t standing here with her heart racing, she might have found the situation absurd.
But absurdity didn’t matter anymore. Desperation did.
“Pardon me,” he said at last, “I believe I misheard you.”
“You didn’t.”
She forced herself to meet his eyes even as her breath stuttered. “You heard me perfectly well.”
Another pause followed.
He studied her for another moment, assessing, calculating. Then, he stepped closer. So close that she felt the heat radiating from his body.
“Lady Hyacinth,” he murmured, so softly that it was almost intimate. “I believe I did. I’m merely trying to decide which of us has gone mad.”
His words hung in the air. It was thickened with meaning in such a way that it made her heart skip a beat.
She forced a defiant smile, her gaze never leaving his. “Possibly both, Your Grace.”
He paused again. Then, the corner of his mouth lifted, but the smile never reached his eyes. “You truly mean it?”
She lifted her chin, a spark of the wild courage she was famous for flickering through her. “I do.”
His eyes tightened, though that didn’t erase the faint shadow of amusement that crossed his face. “And may I inquire why a lady of your standing would wish for such a thing?”
There, that was the question. That was the part Hyacinth had failed to rehearse for. Because what possibly could she tell him? That her uncle was pressuring her far too much to get married?
“Because,” she answered slowly, “of boredom.”
She swallowed hard. Once again, the most nonsensical statement had tumbled from her lips.
He tilted his head slightly, the movement so smooth and feline. “So you mean to use me as a weapon of… entertainment?”
The bewilderment in his tone didn’t go unnoticed. But she believed it was best to keep him in the dark. He was a close friend of Alexander. Things could really get out of hand if she slipped.
Her lips parted, caught between hesitation and defiance. “If you choose to see it that way.”
He chuckled, the sound so low and dark it reverberated through her skin. “It’s a rather bold choice of entertainment, Lady Hyacinth.”
She ignored the comment. Instead, she took a slow, steadying breath.
“I mean to cause a scandal. Enough to ruin my name beyond repair. And when you, like any honorable man, offer marriage, I will refuse. That way, I’ll have my freedom. And you, Your Grace, will have the opportunity to soften your… less-than-pristine reputation.”
The Duke raised an eyebrow, just slightly. A smirk was still on his lips, though it never quite reached his eyes. “Less than pristine?”
Hyacinth allowed a faint smile to curve her lips. “Do forgive me if I speak plainly.”
“I prefer it,” he said simply, his gaze holding hers.
Their eyes locked, and time slowed. The tension in the air was unmistakable, like honey drawn too close to the fire.
Hyacinth’s heart thudded against her ribs. She couldn’t tell what was going through his mind.
Would he accept it or not?
But he hadn’t walked away yet. That was enough to reassure her. Though she was not convinced enough, she still hoped he would go with the flow.
When he finally spoke, his voice dipped even lower, almost a whisper. “And what if I reject your plan?”
His words were low, quiet, almost gentle. But beneath them lay something sharper. Something that sounded like a warning. Or a threat.
Hyacinth didn’t answer right away. Her breath slowed. However, her body did not. Because she felt alive in a way she hadn’t in months—perhaps years.
Her heart was no longer beating. It was pounding. And right below her belly, dangerous heat formed. It was thrilling.
Because she saw it. Felt it.
There was something in his eyes. Something restless. Something roused.
It wasn’t rejection. It wasn’t even doubt.
No. What she saw was far more dangerous than that.
What she had just told him tempted him. Perhaps it was the idea or even the audacity of it. But the recklessness of her request had stirred him, and it had caused the slumbering wolf inside him to wake.
And she foolishly wanted to feed it.
With that, she stepped closer. She wasn’t bold or confident. Her determined steps were just fueled by her desperation.
When her voice came, it was breathless, like fire. “Why would you refuse something that excites you?”
His gaze sharpened. He wasn’t just watching her anymore. He was devouring her. Slowly and carefully. His eyebrows arched slightly, and his lips curled into the ghost of a smirk.
And damn, that expression alone almost stole the strength from her knees.
Just by standing so close to him, she was reminded that Maxwell had always been beautiful in the sort of way women didn’t speak of in polite company.
But it wasn’t just his face. Right now, it was his restraint. The hint of control that suggested he was trying very hard not to do something.
“You’re playing with fire,” he murmured.
Hyacinth tilted her head slightly before allowing her lips to curve into the faintest smile. “Perhaps. But aren’t you curious to know how hot it can burn?”
That smile of his flashed again. Not fully. Not warmly. It was the kind of smile with clenched teeth.
“Besides,” she added carefully, “this would benefit you as well.”
He slowly raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” His breath brushed her lightly. “Do explain how ruining you helps me, My Lady.”
Mockery laced those last two words. But beneath, there was much more wrapped in one maddening breath. Flirtation, challenge, possession.
But then his eyes turned serious. “You do understand, don’t you,” he added, his voice dipping further, “that I’m not in the habit of taking advantage of women?”
Her lashes fluttered once. Her throat went dry.
“That’s not what I mean,” she whispered, becoming more careful now. “I mean that getting… ‘seriously’ involved with a woman might just help fix your reputation.”
Maxwell blinked once. It was slow, as though he were processing her words. Then, he tilted his head, amused.
“I see,” he said. “So I’m to parade you about like a… redemption campaign? A reformed rake, all because I’m seen in the company of one of Society’s most dangerous women?”
Her mouth twitched. “Are you complaining?”
“I’m trying to decide,” he said, “if I should take your words as a compliment or an insult.”
Hyacinth’s eyes glittered. “You can do both.”
That coaxed a soft sound from him. It wasn’t quite laughter or approval. It was something else, one she couldn’t describe.
“You say you’re bored.”
She nodded.
“And yet you want me to entertain you while I fix my reputation?”
“Yes.”
A moment passed. Her heart fluttered hard against her ribs. When she decided to speak again, she hated how hopeful her tone had become.
“Do you accept my proposal?” she asked quietly. “Do we have a deal?”
Silence.
He studied her closely. She could see the suspicion in his eyes. It seemed like he could sense her secrets. That there was more to her scheme than just curing boredom. And he knew it.
But he couldn’t quite touch it. Couldn’t name it. Could only feel it.
Suddenly, his eyes darkened, and he stepped forward. It was just one step, but he was even closer now.
His scent hit her stronger. With his tall figure looming over her, his shoulders blocked the light.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice slightly rough. “Because I have a terrible habit…” He paused, then leaned in so his mouth hovered near her ear. “… of not stopping when told to.”
Hyacinth froze.
His words made heat spread through her body like a fever. Her lips parted, but no sound came out. Her throat tightened.
The threat in his voice was unmistakable. Strangely, foolishly, it thrilled her. And at the same time, it terrified her.
She blinked. Her silence needed to be stopped. Slowly, she took a deep breath, wanting to gather her composure.
Without a choice but to keep playing this game, she forced a chuckle. “I’d love to see you try,” she whispered.
Maxwell pulled back slightly, just enough to look at her. But then his gaze turned sharper and serious again. “And Alexander?”
She raised her eyebrows slightly; she had not expected him to mention her brother. His name sliced through the atmosphere like a cold reminder that her brother was his friend.
Maxwell studied her now with something between caution and regret.
“If we do this,” he warned, “we risk him. Our friendship. You know that.”
Hyacinth arched an eyebrow. A flicker of teasing lightened her features despite the ache in her chest. “Are you scared, Your Grace?”
That did it.
The seriousness in his gaze softened, allowing a dark smile to slowly curve his mouth.
It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t safe. It was the smile of a man who knew better, but had already decided not to care.
The kind of smile that told her that he knew he ought to stop this.
But he didn’t. Rather, he reached out his hand without a word. Before permitting her any word or reaction, his fingers closed around hers, firmly and possessively.
The act instantly stole her breath. He was holding her hand.
Then, he leaned in, his voice holding a dangerous edge. “Then we shouldn’t delay our little plan… should we?”