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“Of course you didn’t.” He reached across the gap between them, brushing back a single lock of her hair. It slipped through his fingers. “I still know that’s what you want just as I understand I’m not the man to give it to you. That man died a long time ago.” He grimaced. “I can only give you what you see now. It isn’t much, I know, but it’s yours if you want it.”
Her brows drew together as her hand settled over her thrumming heart. Did she? In this moment, it was so difficult to tell.
Chapter Five
Every muscle in Chase’s body coiled in an anticipation, ready to spring. The kiss in the library had been satisfying in ways he couldn’t describe. It had been a soothing balm to his wounded soul. But this moment was like pouring hot coals onto a burning fire. She looked up at him, her mouth softly parted, her wide brown eyes crinkled with indecision, her chest heaving. Part of him knew that if he pushed, she’d consent. Allow him to taste her sweet strawberry nectar again.
But another part didn’t want to. Yes, he desired her, more so than he had any woman for a long time. And certainly he’d meant his offer. But he also wished she didn’t take it. He’d remember her as the one pure thing he’d touched in so long. If he sullied that now, what would he be left with, really? No wonder he hated himself. He was baiting the one good thing he’d touched in a long time to turn bad.
“So yo
u can only give me a few stolen, secret kisses? That’s it?” Her gaze had narrowed, her lips pressed into a firm line.
Good girl, he thought. He wanted to kiss her even more but he eased back a bit. “That’s right.”
“Bah,” she said, slicing her hand through the air. “Are you married?”
“No,” he returned, his fingers itching to touch her hair again. It had been so silky against the tips of his fingers.
“Deformed?” One eyebrow lifted as she stepped toward him.
He liked that comment less. “Of course not.” He clenched his fists again, fighting the urge to pull her close. To kiss her lips.
“Then you’re lying. You are capable of offering me far more.” She reached out and pushed him square in the chest. Not hard, but enough to express her irritation. But her hand stayed pressed against him with nothing but his shirt between them. “One might argue, you are honor-bound to do so unless you are physically unable.” Triumph shone in her eyes as she stopped moving forward and instead straightened her spine. “Men have married for far less than we’ve done tonight.”
He let out a rumbling sound that must have vibrated through her hand because she snatched it away. “You don’t know what you ask.”
“I didn’t ask anything.” Then she shook her head. “Never mind. I can assure you, Your Grace, that I will never seek you out for another kiss. I came up here to ask you to be quieter and now I will say my farewell to you in hopes that it is forever.”
Then she turned and started down the hall. He hated watching her walk away. It bothered him far more than he cared to admit. But she was right. It was likely best they sever their relationship now. Still, the pit of his stomach grew heavy with regret. “I’d prefer we leave each other on better terms.”
She spun back around to him, her hands clenched in fists at her sides. “I won’t tell my father about our kiss, but I expect you to continue on your way first thing tomorrow morning.”
He grimaced, turning toward his room. He should have just kissed her. Or never kissed her. Chase couldn’t be certain but he stopped at the threshold. “Ophelia,” he called and she paused, looking back over her shoulder. “My given name is Chase. When you think of me, I’d like you to know my name. The name my parents used for me.”
* * *
The sadness in his voice and in the words nearly knocked her breath from her lungs. She noted the past tense of his statement first. His parents no longer used that name or his parents were gone? “Used?” she whispered, her feet pivoting back around. “What do they use now?”
She watched as his brows drew together, his face tightening in pain, his mouth pinching. “They died a long time ago. I’ve been the duke since I was sixteen.”
She gasped, then covered her mouth with her hands to hide her reaction. She remembered the pain of losing her mother. But she’d had her father and all her sisters from which to draw comfort. He’d told her he only had a single cousin. Who had helped him through the grief? She took two steps toward him, holding out her hand. Belatedly she realized her fingers trembled a bit. “What that must have been like for you. I can’t imagine. You poor—”
“Ophelia,” he said, his voice holding a note of desperation. “Don’t paint me to be the victim here in need of saving.”
She snapped her mouth shut. How had he figured her out so quickly? “I lost my mother. I know how it hurts.”
He drew in a long breath. “I didn’t tell you about my parents so that you would come back in my arms and kiss me out of sympathy. If you do kiss me again, it will be for lust.”
Those words made her stop. Clearly, she’d allowed her romantic musings to carry her away once again. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Then, before anything else could be said, she fled, her feet flying across the thick carpet all the way to the stairs and then down them to her room. But after she’d returned to the safety of her bed chamber, she could still hear him above her. First walking and then tossing and turning in his bed.
And worse still, his words echoed in her thoughts. He’d lost his parents, suffered alone, well that thought was hers. But still, she could hear the sadness beneath his words. And somehow, despite being extremely handsome and a duke, no less, he didn’t really value himself. She rolled over in bed, wondering if there was something she could do.
Finally, after what felt like hours, Ophelia decided that she needed to talk with him again. If she could control her attraction to him long enough to really listen, perhaps she could help him overcome his past and see his own value. He might not be the most moral man she’d ever met but he was redeemable. She could see real good in him. Finally deciding on a course of action, she fell asleep, just as the sky began to lighten.
She woke a few hours later to full sun pouring into her windows. What time was it? Hurrying out of bed, she fumbled about her room, attempting to wash her face and tame her hair. Sleep still weighed heavily on her mind but her maid was able to help her get ready and down to the breakfast room.
