Chapter 6 #2
Heat swept through her the moment she slammed into his wide chest. Suddenly her heart was racing, and the sound of her rushing blood was loud in her ears as her hands found purchase on the solid slabs of muscle beneath his shirt and jacket.
Steel hands wrapped around her, steadying her, and in her moment of shock, she looked up into the Duke’s eyes and froze.
His blue eyes looked wild; nearly feral, as his nostrils flared and his jaw sawed back and forth subtly.
She could not breathe, and in that moment, she realized he was not breathing either.
Yet neither was letting go of the other.
Helena’s fingers twitched at his chest, slightly digging into the fabric of his shirt. He was warm. So warm, and beneath her palm, his heart was hammering at an alarming rate.
Then the carriage door flew open, and the soaked driver poked his head in.
At once, they both moved. Helena scrambled off his lap, and he uncurled his arms that had bound around her.
His hands found purchase on her upper arms and helped her move back into her seat with a surge of force, making her let out a small oomph as she landed hard in the opposite seat.
“Are you all right?” the driver said, yelling over the heavy sound of rain.
“Fine!” the Duke shouted, his gaze lingering on Helena for another second before he turned his full attention to the driver.
“Why did we stop?” he demanded.
“The road up ahead is washed out, Your Grace!” the driver shouted in response. “Just had an incoming driver give me the signal. We cannot make it back to Winterbourne Estate in these conditions!”
A curse formed in Helena’s mind, and not even a second later, the Duke uttered that curse aloud, as if he had read her mind.
“Can we take another way?” the Duke asked, and the driver woefully shook his head.
“This storm is not going to let up for another few hours! Because the town is in a basin, it will flood in all directions. Best to take you to the inn and wait it out somewhere dry.”
Helena watched as a sneer drew across the Duke’s face, as if he hated the idea, and her embarrassment for flying into him grew worse. She curled her arms around her waist as she tucked herself even deeper into the seat, wanting to disappear.
“Are you certain we cannot find another way back?”
Evander’s words were cut off by a roar of thunder, followed instantly by a bolt of lightning. The driver ducked, and at the catastrophic sound, even the Duke flinched.
A growl of frustration rumbled from his chest as his sneer flashed his teeth in a strangely bestial fashion, and he let out another curse.
“Get us to that inn!” he barked. “And hurry!”
“Right away, Your Grace!” the driver shouted back, then shut the carriage door with a loud bang.
The Duke kept muttering curses, shoving his jacket off his massive shoulders as the carriage began to move. He then tossed it at Helena and Aggie, the piece of clothing so large it easily covered both of their laps.
“The moment we stop and that door opens again, you put that over your heads and run inside,” he commanded.
Still embarrassed at how she had been flung into his arms, Helena just nodded as she and Aggie lifted the large jacket and readied themselves.
Just as he commanded, they fled the carriage as soon as the door opened.
In just the few seconds they were outside, the makeshift covering was soaked by the time they made it into the inn, and when Helena turned to see if the Duke had followed them, she found him positively drenched, and his black hair was dripping wet and mussed.
What drew her eyes most, though, was the way his soaked clothes clung to his body.
She had felt his muscles when she had fallen into him, but now every ridge and valley was made visible through the clinging fabric.
He was, she realized, an exceptional perfection of the male form.
Even carved sculptures by the most talented hands had not achieved such masculine beauty.
“My, my, what a fright you all look!” the innkeeper greeted, startling Helena from her lustful thoughts.
She jerked her head toward him, hoping the Duke had not caught her staring so openly.
“Rooms,” Evander growled out, not at all matching the innkeeper’s chipper mood. “Two of them. One for the lady and her maid, and one for myself and our driver.”
Seemingly unbothered by the Duke’s bad temper, the innkeeper simply tsked his tongue as he shook his head.
“Afraid we don’t have two, sir,” he said calmly as he looked down at his ledger. “We got two cots available in the servants’ quarters, though, for your maid and driver, and one room available upstairs. Could you and the lady share a room?”
“No,” the Duke gruffly replied, then nodded in Helena’s direction. “Give her the room. I will sort something else out.”
The innkeeper slid his gaze slowly down Evander’s dripping physique.
“You sure? Got a private fireplace up there. You could dry off. Even a big man such as yourself can still catch their death of cold in this sort of weather.”
The Duke’s eyes narrowed.
“I am not sure what would be worse,” he gritted out, holding out his hand. He deposited a small fortune onto the counter, then flexed his fingers. “Give me the key. I will escort the ladies to their rooms. I will wait down here until the storm passes.”
“Might be a while,” the innkeeper noted, but as the Duke glared at him, the man ducked his head in a quick bow and quickly handed over the key, mumbling that the suite was on the top floor, first door on the left.