He could not mean it. This was more than a house to her, and he would never understand that. This was proof that she was not useless and not a burden to be shifted from one benevolent relation to another. Every cracked tile and threadbare curtain had become part of the fragile fortress she had built for herself out of duty and stubbornness. Iris’s throat tightened as rage and fear pressed hard against her ribs.
“You are monstrous,” she whispered.
The only answer was the faint scrape moving within as though he had already dismissed her and begun to acquaint himself with the room. An absurd, helpless sound rose in her chest.
Iris paced the corridor, then stopped, bent, and slid her fingers under the strap of her shoe, tugging it off swiftly, and hurling it at the door with all the force she could muster. The satisfying crack of leather against painted wood reverberated down the corridor.
“You keep warning me,” she flung her words at him, breathlessly, “but you never actuallydoanything!”
There was a beat of silence on the other side. Then the latch turned, and the door opened deceptively calmly.
His Grace stood at the entrance, filling the frame. Her shoe lay at his booted feet, and his gaze traveled slowly from the discarded slipper up to her flushed face. Iris had the sudden wild thought that if she bolted now, he would catch her before she took two steps.
So she did not move.
“You think I do not do anything,” he said softly.
His voice chilled her.
He stepped out, closing the door behind him. The corridor seemed to shrink around her as he completely erased the distance between them.
Before she could suck in a breath to scream, he caught both her wrists and covered her mouth. His hands were large. For an instant, she was too shocked to resist. Then his grip tightened, and he pulled her arms above her head in one smooth, controlled motion, gently but firmly pushing her body with his until her spine met the wall. The impact was not hard, but it knocked the air from her lungs.
Iris mumbled against his palm as her heart slammed wildly. Her body pressed willingly against his, and her skin grew feverish under his weight. The duke slowly removed his hand from her mouth.
“How dare you? Release me, at once!” she rasped.
He was so close to her that her breasts rubbed against his hard chest until she felt her nipples press against fabric, longing for his touch. There was nowhere for her to go. One of his thighs slid between hers, the rough fabric of his trousers pressed against her skirts, and she could feel the heat of him.
“No,” he murmured in her ear. “I do not think I will.”
Iris’s breath shuddered as he kept her wrists gathered in one hand. The position arched her slightly away from the wall, drawing her unwillingly closer to his chest. His other hand came up, bracing against the panel beside her head. The flex of his arm tightened the fabric over the breadth of his shoulders.
“You shiver, and yet you do not seem afraid,” he whispered as he eyed her entire body.
Iris lifted her chin defiantly. “Iamnot afraid of you.”
“You have been testing me from the time we met,” he suddenly growled, and his breath touched the shell of her ear, causing her skin to prickle with desire.
“And I have indulged you,” he went on. “Because you are… interesting. And that hidden fury of yours amuses me. But there are limits, Little Blossom.”
Her fingers curled uselessly against his palm, and she tried to wriggle out of his grasp.
“What are you going to do to me?” Hurt me?” she asked him bravely, but the scarred duke simply chuckled.
“If I had plans to do anything to you, Little Blossom, it would be the opposite of hurting you.”
Panic flared, then twisted into something far more confusing as her body reacted with infuriating betrayal to the nearness of him. Heat pooled low in her belly and spiraled outward.
“Make that pretty head of yours understand,” he continued, “that I am the master of this house now. Not you. Not your late husband.Me.”
Iris shuddered.
“I do not care to spend my days arguing with a menace,” his tone darkened, “when I could be enjoying more… pleasant distractions. So, I want to be left alone. Do you understand?”
She forced herself to meet his dark gaze, though her cheeks burned and her pulse hammered so loudly she half-feared he could hear it.
“We shall see about that,” she said daringly.
