“Ye were gentle with him just now,” she said, shaking him from his unwelcome thoughts. “When ye stroked his hair. He needs more of that, and less of the Duke of Ealdwick.”
“I suppose you believe I handle my son’s life incorrectly then?”
Her defensive response was immediate and sharp.
“I didnae say it like that! Ye cannae take every word I say to heart like that. Ye brought me here to help!”
The Duke responded just as ardently.
“He requires structure! He requires order! The world is not gentle, Isla, and I must prepare him for it. I must protect him from harm. We cannot all run amuck!”
“And ye think hidin’ a child behind a wall of rules is protection? No room for laughter or fun?” she countered. “Ye are the kindest man in the world to a sleepin’ child, yet the coldest to a wakin’ one! Ye confuse me to no end… How can ye be so gentle and yet so rigid at the same time?”
“You are here to care for him, not to advise me on fatherhood,” Benedict snapped. “That is all.”
“How can I care for him if ye destroy the trust I build the moment he acts like a child should? Chastisin’ him for some simple joke.” Isla stepped closer. “I saw the way ye looked at him as you tucked him in. Ye love him.”
“What do you mean, Isla? Of course I love my son,” he said, his voice a whisper.
“I see a man drownin’ in love but also fear. Why do ye deny him that warmth? And yerself!”
“I do not need such things.”
“Ye need it as much as ye need air. Deprive yerself much longer, and ye will nae be able to breathe.”
The air between them grew thick and suffocating, weighted by the undeniable, terrifying truth of her words. He knew it.
Her fierce gaze held him, ripping away the polite mask he had clung to for too long. In that instant, he recognized his own desperate, drowning reflection in her eyes. There was nowhere left to run.
He moved toward her, closing the distance in a single stride.
This is it.
Suddenly, he backed her against the cool, dark wood paneling of the hallway wall. He planted his hands on either side of her head, caging her in, his muscular frame looming over her. The scent of fine wool, pine, and raw male exasperation overwhelmed hersenses. She was trapped, the quiet passage suddenly feeling like the entire world pressing in.
“You have spent your time here challenging every order I give, every boundary I set,” he gritted out, a low, vibrating rumble that she felt deep in her bosom and between her legs.
She watched his gaze drop from her eyes and then settle hard on her mouth.
“Perhaps I need to show you how to behave. Is that what you want, my Duchess?”
Isla could only stare up at him, breathless. She felt her heart hammering wildly against her ribs. She was terrified, but beneath the fear was a reckless, exhilarating thrill. She needed this closeness.
His head descended slowly as his lips sought out hers. She knew he was giving her the chance to turn away.
She did not.
His mouth collided with hers with a fierce intensity that pulled her to him. His lips were soft, but the kiss was not. It was needy, filled with the frustration and long-denied desire that lingered between them. For all her self-consciousness, she had known it. If he did not want her, he would not have gone to such lengths to avoid her.
He wants me.
His mouth tasted like the cold whiskey he’d likely consumed hours earlier and the rich, dark chocolate they’d shared in the kitchen. A part of her suspected he had a secret penchant for slices of gateau, and regularly. Yet the taste was also something uniquely him. It was as if the flavor was designed just for her, to drive her wild.
She let him claim her mouth with possessiveness that made her knees weak, and she responded instantly, moving her lips in time with his. Desperately, she tangled her fingers into the thick, dark hair at the nape of his neck.
She slipped her tongue into his mouth, exploring him as his tongue met hers with a deep moan that sounded likeIsla.
She pressed her mouth harder against him when suddenly, the Duke pulled back. Isla watched his chest heaving, his face dark with what she could only assume was shock. He stared at her as her eyes met his, before taking a fast, jerky step away. He acted as if touching her had burned him.
