Schooling her features and her voice to remain as calm as possible, she asked, “Why would you riffle through my desk?”
“Why would you ignore or declineallof these invitations, Alaina?” he demanded, mocking her inquiry. “Every single one of these possesses a date since my return to London. Why would you hide these from me?” Was it her imagination, or was there a flicker of hurt in the mossy depths of his eyes? Could he possibly have been injured by her omission of these invitations? “If we are going to coexist in this marriage, then I need to know about these things.” The rough tone of his voice told him she hadn’t imagined it.
Her mind raced, but Alaina knew there was no way to lie herself out of this situation—no way to spin it to mask the embarrassing truth of it.
“What would you like me to say?” she snapped in an effort to disguise her own pain, her heart thrashing like a caged wild bird. “That I did not wish to face all the questions and leers?” While her husband’s eyes remained steadfastly locked on hers, there was a methodical flex of a muscle in his chiseled jaw that told her he was listening and not liking what he heard. “Some of those invitations may be genuine—old friends desiring to welcome you home—but I know these people well enough to say with confidence that many are simply morbidly curious about your return…about the state of our marriage.” Her fists clenched around the cloth napkin in her lap, twisting it over and over again as she was transformed back into the abandoned girl, so lost and hopelessly alone. “‘Why did Morton returnnow? Did the duchess finally grow enough of a backbone to yank his leash and drag him home?’” she mocked in a nasty approximation of only a small fraction of the gossip she’d endured over the years. Her cheeks warmed painfully, and the backs of her eyes began to sting. She cursed inwardly; she’d believed herself to be past allowing such thoughts and words to harm her, but it was clear their venom still festered deep inside her soul.
Sterling suddenly stood and moved to her side. Taken aback by the gesture, she forgot to fight when he removed the wrinkled napkin from between her fingers and pulled her to her feet, gently tugging her into his arms. There was only a heartbeat between when Alaina froze in shock, and when she was overcome by how Sterling overwhelmed nearly every one of her senses.
He smelled just like she remembered—clean, leather and sandalwood. His arms were so sturdy around her, making her feel so small and protected. The hard length of his body was firm against every inch of her, and yet, it was comfortable and comforting in the most unexpected way. She fit there…just there with her head tucked beneath his chin and her cheek pressed against the thrumming heart beneath his breast. It was foreign to her to be cradled in his strong arms, held against the solid wall of his chest, cocooned in his masculine scent, but it was more shocking to her to realize that it wasn’t as unwelcome as she’d believed it might be.
All the frustration Sterling had displayed seemed to have dissipated and, in its place, was this unexpected tenderness.
Though Alaina had initially stiffened against the unfamiliar contact, she gradually melted into the embrace. Hesitantly (and against her better judgment), her arms wound ’round Sterling’s narrow waist; this only prompted him to hold her closer, tighter, and rest his chin atop her hair. Her eyes slid closed and, though her conscience railed against it, she allowed herself to be carried away by it all.
How long had it been since she’d been held like this?
For that matter, had sheeverbeen held quite like this?
The gesture spoke to a secret part of her soul she’d kept locked away for fear that its release would break her…a part that desired this closeness with another person…had always craved this tenderness and understanding fromhim,above all others.
She counted the steady thrum of his heart.
One…two…three…four…five…
And then Sterling loosened his hold on her just enough to allow her to take half a step back while keeping her within his arms. Alaina looked up to find his hazel eyes staring down at her intently.
“It is unfair,” he began gently, his voice reverberating in the space between them, entering her chest like tendrils of intoxicating smoke; “that you must concern yourself with such things. And I don’t believe I will ever successfully express how sorry I am for it.” His thumb began to stroke her back from side to side, and it was difficult for her to concentrate. “But wouldn’t it be wonderful to accept some of these invitations and present a united front? We are, after all, a duke and a duchess…we cannot hide from social obligations forever.”
Alaina’s lips parted when she saw his eyes dart to her mouth. Her lungs released a shaky sigh of their own volition.
His arms tensed around her.
The dark pools of his pupils dilated.
“A—Are you going to kiss me?” she asked in a voice more breathless than she would have liked.
“Do you wish for me to kiss you, Alaina?”
It was Alaina’s turn to lower her gaze to his lips. He’d kissed her before and, though it was many years ago now, this felt entirely different.
This was more powerful.
More dangerous.
His mouth held her mesmerized; even more so when it tilted into a smile.
Sterling’s voice lowered further when he said, “It’s more than alright if you do. It is your right as a wife to demand kisses, a right I will always wholly support and even encourage.”
Alaina swallowed involuntarily. The tip of her tongue darted out and wet her lower lip.
Unable to resist,Sterling lowered his head in slow increments. He afforded Alaina every chance to pull free while mentally preparing himself for a stinging slap to his cheek, but some unseen force kept her captive in his arms, in his eyes.
His lips stopped a breath away from hers.
Waiting.
Alaina’s eyes slid closed and, though he knew it likely grated against her better judgment, she tilted her head a fraction of an inch to touch her lips to his.
