Page 13 of His Duchess' Mischief

“For murder.”

“A serious crime, indeed,” the Duke said, a vein in his forehead throbbing as he glared at her. “And who did I kill?”

“Your… your best friend,” Alicia whispered as he took another step toward her.

She gave a small cry as the back of her legs met the chaise. She fell back, catching herself, leaning away from him as he crowded her.

“Hm,” he murmured, his tone conversational even as his legs brushed her knees, trapping her in place. “I would not believe the rumors you hear if I were you, Lady Alicia.”

The way he said her name… it was almost like a cat purring with pleasure, the ‘s’ sound elongated and sensual as if he were drawing it out deliberately, like a snake. She wanted to hear him say it again.

“I… I merely heard the servants talking about it,” she murmured.

“I am to marry a woman who puts store in the idle chatter of servants, then,” he drawled.

His hands came up on either side of her head, and he leaned over, his face inches from her own.

Alicia’s breath came quicker as she pushed herself into the corner of the chair. His torso hovered above her, his eyes flashing with fire.

“I want you to understand something, Duchess, and I will only say this once, is that clear?”

“Y-Yes,” she stammered, her fingers clutching the cushions.

“You have my word that I will never harm you. But I will not justify myself on account of lies that strangers tell behind my back.”

She nodded, the heat of him surrounding her, the scent of his hair filling her lungs, the faint tang of orange in the air.

She could see every part of his face, the golden flecks all the more stark with his eyes so close—like deep mahogany flecked with beech.

Alicia sank further into the chair as his knee came up, bracketing her thighs as she was pressed even further into the plush cushions.

It had never been more clear that she was in his house, his domain, where his servants were loyal to him.

Is this what my life will be like? Threatened every day with no one to care, should I scream?

“This marriage, such as it is, is a convenience. It is something that will suit us both. I have little use for a wife, other than to fulfill the conditions of my father’s will. I must marry before I am five-and-thirty, and that is the purpose of today. You and I will exist in a marriage of convenience that serves us both. You can live your life, and I will live mine. I have no desire to get to know you.”

Her breathing grew heavy, a dark heat that she had never felt before forming between her legs. His proximity, his scent, and everything about his domineering presence made her feel overwhelmed with need.

That same strange desire to please him rose within her, to do as he asked, and for him to tell her that she had done well—that he waspleasedwith her.

She shivered, and his lips twitched at the corners as though in the beginnings of a smile, but it faded almost as quickly.

“I do not like hearing rumors spread by people who do not know me.” His voice was a growl now, reverberating through her chest. “I will not hear them from you again, is that clear?”

Alicia nodded again.

His hips brushed the fabric of her gown, his body inches from covering her completely, and her cheeks were flaming with the heat of a blush.

“I am pleased to hear it, my Duchess,” he whispered, his face hovering just above hers. His eyes flicked down to her lips, before he slowly moved away.

His body had blocked out so much of the light from the window that Alicia had forgotten it was light outside.

Everything, all of her senses, had narrowed on the man before her. It was as if, for a short time, all that existed in the world was him.

The Duke straightened to his full height, pulling at his coat and sleeves and tugging his waistcoat over the flat planes of his stomach.

Alicia only realized she was staring when his eyes flitted to her. She quickly averted her gaze, wishing that her blush would fade.

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