Her gaze met his, and for a heartbeat, he saw everything.
Restraint, longing, fear, and desire.
He leaned closer, carefully letting her feel the nearness without forcing her.
He watched her inhale sharply before leaning toward him ever so slightly. The heat radiating from her, the way her breath trembled when his fingers brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, made something coil low in his chest.
He did not kiss her, not yet.
He let her feel him, let her choice come, letting anticipation thrum in the space between them.
When she finally leaned toward him a little more, Adrian met her halfway.
And kissed her.
It was not a devouring kiss but a tentative one at first. He didn’t want to scare her but also wanted her to have a chance to push him away if need be. So, he chose a slow but deep claim. Her lips were sweet, and so, so soft.
Perfect.
She was undoubtedly inexperienced, but she responded by instinct, kissing him back. Her arms rose automatically, hands clinging to his lapels to pull him closer as they deepened the kiss.
A strangled sound escaped her throat, but he swallowed it with his lips.
All the tension crashed, making way for passion that they had long suppressed. Soon, the kiss became demanding. His arms pulled her closer, wrapping around her waist, as he reveled in how soft she was against his hard body. A body that was growing even harder at the feel of her gentle curves against his solid frame.
Then, she pushed him away.
Startled at Daphne’s reaction, Adrian’s eyes opened wide to see his bride looking panicked. Her eyes were red and tearful, while her chest heaved.
“No, Your Grace,” she choked out. “I… We… This is a mistake.”
One more time, she fled.
This time, the frustration that had been gnawing at him reached greater heights.
He had tasted her and felt her body against his.
There was no going back now.
Chapter Nine
“Mrs. Fletcher, why is the west wing not fully utilized? The section feels so oddly dormant. I must say, hopefully without offending anybody, that if I were to design my own home, there wouldn’t be wasted spaces.”
Even though Daphne’s lips still tingled from the kiss she shared with the Duke the other day, she vowed to forget about it. Therefore, she needed something to preoccupy her time.
Today, she and the housekeeper stood in what should be a main corridor. The difference with it was that it was lit dimly, as if nobody were expecting anyone to pass through. Her gloved hand rested on the cold carved post of the seemingly abandoned staircase.
While the rest of Wolfcrest felt airy and functional, there was something thicker and forgotten about this particularly quiet part of the house.
The usually calm and competent Mrs. Fletcher looked pale, as her trembling fingers fidgeted around the set of silver keys hanging from her leather belt. Caution made her shift from one foot to another. Daphne frowned at the sight.
“Your Grace, yes. You are right. The west wing is not utilized, but His Grace prefers it as it is. He does use some of the rooms, especially for guests. He keeps a personal library in the wing, too. The wing also houses the family gallery of portraits. The area is not closed; however, there are moments when I sense that His Grace might prefer it were.
“You wish to shutter parts of the house?” Daphne was bewildered. “Why would anyone do that to a family gallery? Isn’t that where a person’s lineage and pedigree are to be displayed ostentatiously and for good reason? After all, what is Wolfcrest, if not for the people who came before?”
Mrs. Fletcher faltered, swallowing hard. Her eyes darted left and right, almost as if she believed someone would suddenly appear to overhear her. Then, they rested on a mahogany door with aWcrest on it. It felt impenetrable, but how Daphne even thought that from a short distance, she could not understand. However, she quickly guessed that it was where the family gallery was housed.
“His Grace, the late Duke, had wanted to seal the wing after the tragedies, Your Grace. I am glad that His Grace decided to keep the wing open. He just made sure it was not welcoming. The most vital rooms operate in the east wing.”
