Pippa’s teeth continued to chatter, and for a moment, she almost considered it. The thought of warmth was too tempting to ignore. But her pride wouldn’t allow her to do it—not in front of him. “I’m fine,” she said, though her voice trembled slightly, betraying her. “It’s just a little cold.” Her teeth knocked together as she shook harder.
“Of course it is,” the duke replied, glancing at her over his shoulder. “But it’s not going to get any warmer unless you let the gown dry.”
He stoked the fire and left her in her misery. She narrowed her gaze on him and wished she had something to hit him with. It was perhaps a violent reaction, but she could not help it. He always brought out her worst impulses. Pippa opened her mouth to argue with him, but another violent shiver cut her off. She closed her eyes in frustration and pulled her arms tighter around her chest, knowing he was right. She hated to admit that even to herself.
He was quiet for a moment, and then, with a knowing glance, he stepped away from the fire and took off his own damp coat. “I’ll leave you to your dignity, but if you don’t warm up soon, I’ll have no choice but to intervene.”
Pippa stood still, the tension in her body palpable. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of being right, but the room was growing colder by the second, and she knew he was correct. She needed to be warm, or she would never escape the storm unscathed. Finally, with a deep breath, she nodded. “I will... take off my gown,” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I will give you as much privacy as I can in such a small space.” Haverleigh gave her a small nod, as though he had known what would happen before she did. His expression softened, and for a moment, Pippa saw not the Duke of Haverleigh, but just a man trying to help. Still, she kept her gaze on him as she began to remove the wet gown, unsure of what he intended to do as she stripped before him. He reached for a nearby quilt and handed it to her. “Wrap yourself in this when you are done and let me know once you have it in place.” He smiled. “I will keep my back to you until then.”
Pippa undid the buttons of her riding habit as fast as she could, but it was slow work. There were a lot of tiny buttons, and her fingers were still numb from the cold. Once she had the gown off, she set it on a hook by the door—probably had been intended for a large overcoat that could be hastily donned as the previous inhabitant left. She took the quilt Haverleigh had given her and wrapped it around herself. She watched him warily as she made her way over to his side. The warmth from the fire began to creep through her limbs, the chill slowly fading away. She couldn’t deny that it felt better, though she would never admit it aloud. Her cheeks still burning with embarrassment at being nearly naked in his presence. “I am done,” she told him
Haverleigh glanced at her and gestured for her to move closer to the hearth. “You’ll be warm soon enough,” he said quietly, turning back to the fire.
Pippa couldn’t help but notice how different the air between them felt now—charged, alive with something neither of them seemed willing to admit. Now that she was not a shivering mess, she realized that they were entirely alone, and that feeling she had earlier had come to the surface again. That did not bode well for either of them…
Three
The warmth of the fire slowly began to spread throughout the small, musty hunting lodge, but despite the heat, Christopher still felt an uneasy chill settling deep within him. The storm raged outside, the wind howling through the trees, but here, in the warmth of the firelight, the reality of their situation was all too clear.
He glanced at Pippa, her back to him as she continued to stand by the fire, shivering with the cold. She had removed her gown in a bid to warm up as he had suggested, and though Christopher kept his gaze averted, he couldn’t help but notice the delicate curve of her shoulders, the way her skin seemed to glow in the firelight. She was beautiful—there was no denying that, though he would never admit it to her. Not in a million years. But the truth was undeniable. She had grown into a woman, and not just any woman. A woman who had the ability to make his heart race with a single look.
Pippa was, without a doubt, the most infuriating woman he’d ever met. But there was something else, something he had never considered before, that was beginning to gnaw at his insides. He caught himself again, before he had started to lift his gaze toward her and glanced away. When had this shift happened? He had always thought of her as a silly little girl, someone to be dismissed—someone whose annoying tongue and fiery temper were nothing more than a minor nuisance. But now? Now, everything about her seemed to affect him in ways he could never have imagined. Desire flooded him in hot waves of need—this was unacceptable. He couldn’t want her. Not her. Any other woman but her…
“Your Grace,” Pippa’s voice broke through his thoughts, sharp and demanding as always. “You should remove your wet clothes as well. You’ll never get warm if you remain in them. Is that not what you told me?” Her tone was full of mischief, and he should not take her bait, but he knew before he spoke what would happen. She always brought out the worst in him.
Christopher’s brow furrowed. He knew she was right. He had been standing there for far too long, still drenched from the rain, his coat was the only piece of clothing he had removed. His waistcoat did not go unscathed though as it was still heavy with rainwater. At the moment he considered removing his clothing, a wave of hesitation rushed over him. He knew that their situation was delicate. Too delicate. They were already in a precarious situation and one wrong move would ruin her reputation. Unfair perhaps, but it was the truth. He would weather this storm, so to speak, with little difficulty. But her… She would bear the brunt of this transgression even if nothing truly happened between them.
“No,” he said, his voice firm. “It would not be wise.” He met her gaze and held it. “We both know that if anyone discovered we were nearly naked together in this small, secluded hunting lodge, you would be ruined. The ton would never forgive you” He grinned. “And do not think I would do the honorable thing and offer for you if that should happen.” Though he would have every intention of doing the right thing. he did not tell her that. It was far better for her to believe that he was a cad and would allow her be disgraced. Because then she would not argue the point of him not removing his clothes. Though the idea of her being in such a compromising position gnawed at his conscience. He would never do her any harm.
Pippa turned, her eyes glinting with that fire he both loathed and admired. “You’re being foolish. The clothes will only make you more uncomfortable.” She stepped closer, her gaze steady and determined, as though she thought she could convince him with a look alone. “And we both know that it doesn’t matter how many clothes we leave on. Everyone will believe the worst regardless.” She lifted her chin in defiance. “And I wouldn’t have you even if you offered.”
“I am not foolish, Pippa,” he muttered, though the words lacked their usual bite. “But I am not willing to risk your reputation to save myself from a little discomfort.” He couldn’t bring himself to say more. The truth was, he didn’t know what he was willing to risk. Not anymore. The desire he felt for her was palpable, and what he truly feared… He swallowed hard. He feared that if they were both stripped bare he would no longer be able to deny the truth. That he wanted her almost desperately, and one touch, one look from her would undo him. He would give into the need to hold her, and if she allowed it, have her in every way possible.
There was a moment of silence between them, a heavy tension that seemed to settle over the room like a thick fog. Pippa hesitated, her gaze wandering over him as if she were weighing her options. “I still say you are being ridiculous,” she said softly, and rolled her eyes. She motioned toward another quilt. “But you should still get warm, don’t you think? You could remove some of your clothing and wrap yourself in that.”
Christopher’s gaze flicked to the quilt on a nearby trunk, and the temptation to simply wrap himself in it overwhelmed him. He moved toward it, shrugging off his waistcoat and his shirt still clinging to his damp skin. He quickly pulled them off and hung them near his coat. He intended to wrap himself in the quilt to warm himself. But as he reached for the quilt, he caught a glimpse of Pippa, her eyes flicking to his bare chest. He paused, his heart skipping a beat as he noticed how her gaze lingered—how it seemed to wander over him, tracing every inch of his exposed skin. His breath caught in his throat. What was this? Why the blazes did he have to be so aware of every inch of her? Did she like what she saw?
Her cheeks flushed a delicate pink, and she quickly turned away, but not before he saw the way her lips parted slightly, as though she had forgotten how to speak. He could see the faint shimmer of desire in her eyes, and it rattled him to his core. A realization crashed over him with the force of undeniable need: he wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea of her looking at him this way. The thought of her interest in him—of her wanting to see him, truly see him—both thrilled and terrified him. Because it meant they were feeling the same heated need, and if he pushed just a little he could have her.
When had his feelings for her shifted? How long had they been building, unnoticed by him? It certainly had not happened when they were still nothing more than children. That first time they met he had despised her and he’d found her an annoying little girl. Over the years they had verbally sparred whenever they were near each other. So much so, it had become a habit he could not, nor wished to, break. He shook his head, desperately trying to regain some semblance of control. But it was too late. He had already seen it, and now it lingered between them like an unspoken truth. Pippa was not the same girl he had once dismissed. She had become a desirable woman—a woman who stirred something deep inside him that he could not ignore. Even if he wished to.
He couldn’t allow himself forget the stakes though. He was far too aware of her, and what having he would mean. They did not get along on a good day. He frowned and turned away from the quilt, leaving it to the side. Instead, he stood tall, allowing the dampness of his breeches to remain, though it bothered him not one bit. He knew what was at risk now. What had always been at risk. “I think we are both foolish,” Christopher muttered, finally breaking the silence that hung thick in the air. “But there is no helping our situation now. I am afraid we must live with whatever ramifications result from this little sojourn. The tempest outside will not allow anything else.”
“We are fully entangled now,” she agreed.
And that sent and image through his mind that nearly dropped him to his knees. Christopher wanted to be entangled with her, in every way possible. He very much feared that by the end of their time together that would happen. This tempest was much more than a storm that brewed outside—it stirred between them. Tangling them together until he didn’t know if he ever wanted to be unraveled from her again. He stared at her and that desire came to the surface. She held his gaze and did not move. He knew then she not only saw her own need reflected in his eyes, but she understood the desire building in him as well.
Her lips parted as if she was going to respond, but no words came. Instead, she turned toward the fire, her expression unreadable. Christopher couldn’t tell what was going through her mind with any confidence, but one thing was certain: things had definitely shifted between them. And now, he could only wonder how much further they would choose to go.
Christopher's heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing in his ears as the storm outside raged on. The wind howled and the rain lashed against the small hunting lodge, but the tempest within him was far more ferocious. He could barely recall the time before the cabin—when she had just been Pippa, his friend's annoying little sister, and now she had become someone entirely different to him. Someone who consumed his thoughts with an intensity he couldn’t escape.
He caught himself again, watching her as she faced the fire, her golden hair catching the light of the flames, her figure still silhouetted against the warm glow. There was a quiet strength in her that had never been there when they were younger—something that had probably only deepened with time. He had always been able to dismiss her, to view her as an annoyance, but now? Now, every part of him ached to be near her. To hold her. To claim her.
And if they did not escape this cabin soon—he would attempt to do just that…
Four
