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“They instructed me to come collect information, because they thought you the leader of a plot to free Napoleon.” She stared him straight in his eyes, despite the trembling it caused to her insides.
“Did you find any proof?” His arched brows spoke of dismissal.
“I have what I saw happening here.” She said candidly.
“And it demonstrated without a question I am a traitor.” His chin lowered so his eyes pried further.
She fought the compelling need to fidget under his scrutiny. “How will I be sure, if you do not talk to me?”
“I want you out of this for your own good. I do not want you involved in anything that can put you in danger.” He crossed his muscled arms over his broad chest, looking even more forbidding.
She blinked, as thoughts raced through her mind. “So this is true?”
He lifted his head to peer at her from up his nose. “I will say no more of it.”
“Evidently, you are in your right.” She admitted. “As it is my right to decide to travel to London.”
He sucked in air forcefully, as if trying to abate his temper, his nostrils flaring. “I forbid it.” Low and commanding.
Her contrariety rose fast and hot. “You know you cannot do it!”
“I remember having told you I am a Duke and as such, I do mostly what I want.” Cold and guiltless.
“You do not possess me like some medieval serf!” She delivered hotly.
“You want me to show you how much I possess you?” His murky examination covered her from her coiled hair to her slipper-ed feet, not missing her diaphanous water-green high-waist dress.
Vermillion painted her cheeks violently with arousal and mortification at the truth in his retort. He evidenced it each night, all night. Unquestionably.
“This has nothing to do with our conversation.” She countered with firmness though melting heat flowed to her centre.
‘They are one and the same for me. It is who you are. Who we are.” His lopsided grin smug and wolfish at the same time.
“Is this your final word?” She crossed her arms defiant and his gaze lowered to the movement her breasts made with her gesture.
“Irrevocably.” Fierceness in his deep voice.
Then he would not be able to blame her if she tried. It hung between them like an unuttered challenge.
His eyes became murkier as they fenced silently, ogling each other with a mixture of greed and antagonism. It resulted in her body going hot inside and her mind steaming with vexation. The contradiction took her by storm and she found it unbearable to sustain his stare. Unwillingly, she lowered her liquid brown irises for fear she might throttle him. Or ravish him!
A victorious glint shone in his depths, conveying the certainty of her capitulation. He should be smarter, obviously.
“If you will excuse me.” He bowed and turned to the door without a back glance at her.
* * *
He should let her choose what she wanted to do, Romulus thought, walking back to the solar. He understood it, of course he did. Unable to bring himself to do it, he resorted to his ducal prerogatives. And she had been right, the middle ages long gone, and she deserved to be treated not like a serf, bloody hell!
The prospect of her deserting him, though, impelled his guts to wrench in a way he did not recognise. And could even less gauge the cause for it. Needless to say, their nights together grew addictive by the minute. The nights being a mere part of it. Her presence in the castle coloured everything with a bright light. Fencing with her in the middle of nowhere? Unpaired. Sparring with her about just anything? Unique. Wrestling? Tempting. Running
after her in the woods? Never to be forgotten. She poured tons of spice into his life. A life he had lived in bitter shades of grey for six years.
If she left, she would take it all with her. It would most definitely feel like deserting. For how else would it be if the maddening woman insisted in being so headstrong?
Why could she not be meek and pliable and comply with his orders? But then this passion simmering between them would not be there, would it? He wanted her this feverishly because she was who she was.
He had no right to blame her for making her decision in this fashion. She asked, and he did not disclose anything about his affairs. He would not, full stop. Without explanations, she must come to the automatic conclusion of his treason. He would do the same were their roles reversed.
