Page 20 of Her Beastly Duke
The duke handed her the glass, and his long fingers brushed hers, lingering. Her breathing grew rapid, and she felt a flutter in the pit of her belly. Briar stared at her hand before she moved it away and quickly took a sip of her wine. She detected a slight tremor, and she hoped he hadn’t noticed. He made no effort to sit, so Briar remained standing. In an instant, the duke took a step toward her. He was getting close.
“It is me that should thank you. I enjoyed your company at dinner. I was surprised to find that I was not self-conscious without the mask in a social setting.”
She could see the tiny lines around his eyes. “That is why I am here, Your Grace.”
His voice grew softer, and he cocked his head to the side. “It may seem inconsequential to you—”
Briar felt the overwhelming need to reassure him. She placed her glass on the table, and took a step forward, yet maintaining some distance between them. “Not at all …”
He inhaled, low and shallow.
“Briar,” he whispered, and there was a hint of something in her name … something she could not place because no one else had ever said her name in this way. His words were more breath than sound, like a light breeze that kissed her skin on a summer day. Briar was commanding her mind to think of these things, but it would not listen.
She opened her mouth to speak and could not think of what she wanted to say, and at that precise moment, he took two steps forward. The duke was far too close, yet somehow not close enough. He smelled of wine and spices. His hand moved, gently brushing her cheek. The fleeting touch was an undelivered promise of what was to come. He took another step forward, and Briar’s breath caught in her chest. Their bodies almost touched. She resisted the urge to step back, but she held his gaze. It was there in the depths of his eyes. He wanted to kiss her. She saw it, and there was a flicker of recognition in the depths of his gaze. He knew she was aware of it … aware of what he wanted. There was no mistaking it, the raw need. His lips tempted but did not touch, and she imagined they were soft and fiery, leaving a trail of heat where they almost were.
The duke raised his hand once more, but this time, Briar lurched away from him and took a step back. She could not, would not. At first, she thought she might welcome his kiss, but now that he was this close, she could feel panic rising inside her. She clenched her fist, and her nails dug into her palms. She feltunsteady on her feet, and a bead of perspiration appeared on her brow. There was nothing in his demeanor that suggested he meant her any harm. The duke was calm and stoic.
The duke’s hand fell away, and his eyes were resigned as if he knew this was the way the encounter would end. He touched his scar and the core of his vulnerability for a moment, and she got a peek inside, but not for long because he was proficient at hiding the hurt. His jaw tightened, and he lowered his gaze. A veil quickly shrouded the depths of his eyes. Wordlessly, he turned and walked away. He thought she was repelled because of his scar, but nothing could be further from the truth. He ought not to leave believing this. Briar took a step forward, but the duke could not see her. She wanted to call him back, yet nerves stole her words, and they were strangled in her throat.
The room was quiet except for the sound of his receding steps. She watched his retreating frame until his hand reached for the doorknob. She thought she would be relieved to see him leave, but she was not. Briar struggled with her feelings. The duke did not paw her, rip her garments or force himself on her. He was nothing like Lord Fredrick; there was no reason to fear him. Yet, she was apprehensive. She had never felt such conflicting emotions. In this moment, she had to make a choice and she did not wish to ruin everything between them. But what if she made the wrong choice? She would certainly regret the decision later. The thought was unsettling.
Tears pricked her eyes, although they were not quite welling up. She drew in a deep breath and took another step forward before she stumbled. “Wait.”
He froze, hands hovering on the doorknob as he decided whether he should leave. Slowly, his hand fell away from the doorknob, and he pivoted to face her. Briar took a few steps and stopped before he hesitantly moved forward to meet her. Once again, they were close. She gazed deeply into his eyesas she reached up and gently touched his scar, mirroring how he touched her cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against her hand. Neither of them spoke or moved then he took her hand and gently kissed her palm. The tender touch of his lips sent shivers down her spine.
She would surrender to him and show him she was not repulsed. Briar closed her eyes and waited; her senses heightened.Finally, she felt it … right there. A featherlight brush on her neck where her pulse pounded as much as her heart. His breathing was even more ragged than hers; eyes closed, she listened and felt. Her skin was hot and flushed, and it was not from the pressing heat of the room. She was not afraid and did not need to convince herself that she was safe with him. She desired his touch and needed his hand to linger. Briar leaned into his caress, wanting more. His touch was tender yet sensual, and it sent her senses reeling. This feeling was nothing she could ever have imagined, and she craved it more and more. She considered reaching for him once more in a moment of madness, just for a fleeting moment. It would be just a gentle stroke so he could feel the heat she felt when he touched her body.
How enticing.
Suddenly, the duke’s hand fell away, and Briar’s eyes flew open.No, her mind screamed, but she had the good sense to take a deep breath and step back. The duke’s gaze pinned her with its intensity.
“When we are alone, I would like you to call me Julius. When we are together, I will call you Briar. I am sure you will agree that we have passed the formalities.”
A small gasp left her. Briar loved the way her name sounded when it rolled off his lips. He said it as if he wanted to keep her … close.
“Julius,” she said tentatively. Why did she find him so fascinating? What was it about the duke that inspired this madness within her? Was this the result of two lonely souls finding each other? She had no answer but for a tightness in her chest.
“I think you should retire for the evening before I do something we will both regret.” As he spoke, he ran his finger along the curve of her lip.
Briar never thought she would long to be kissed with her first experience being such a horrid one. How had it gotten to this and how could he have such an effect on her? The sensation was strange and not quite decipherable.
“Good night, Julius.” Briar spun around and left the drawing room.
He radiated strength, power and virility, yet he had his fears and exposed his vulnerability. As she ascended the stairs, she could not help but think that she and Julius were in a horribly unequal position. He had the wealth and power and could easily dictate the terms. Perhaps she ought not to encourage his touch. No good would come of it.
CHAPTER 9
Julius watched Briar disappear from the drawing room, willing her to return. The room seemed colder without her presence. The warmth not only evaporated from the enclosure, but it also left his body. He shivered as he picked up his unfinished wine and sat on the sofa.Bloody hell! He fought the urge, although he so badly wanted to kiss her; it was like an ache in his gut. Never before had he wanted to lick and nibble at anyone's lips as much as he wanted hers. He was consumed with thoughts of touching her, yet afraid she would find it abhorrent. She had not. Instead, need flashed in the depths of her eyes even though she did not know what she wanted. Such unspoiled innocence. Temptation flared, and Julius imagined that when she touched his cheek, it set other things in motion.
He closed his eyes and imagined her caressing him all over. The vision was enough to cause his cock to twitch when he tasted her lush lips. How creamy and white would her skin be under her dress? He wanted to … he must stop. He shot up from his seat and paced the length of the room, suddenly restless.
Briar was not a worldly woman. She was nothing like the ladies he met at the French court, and it would beunconscionable for him to treat her that way. There would be no frolicking in the bedchamber or the back staircase for Briar. She would not be familiar with the muffled groans and grunts leaking through the walls. Julius recalled the days of perfume and heated skin, seduction and fulfillment. The look of innocence meant Briar had not had more than a stolen kiss. A surprisingly lush mouth, which assuredly had not been kissed enough. She most certainly had not had a lover. She was a virgin. He was sure of it. While she stepped back from his touch, she should have run and kept her feelings in proper order. She should have escaped him.
He sighed heavily and poured himself another drink. He must remain pragmatic to ensure they both got what they wanted from the arrangement. She had stormed into his life and was still here long after she should have disappeared, long after she saw his ill-favored face. Although Briar and Duncan had been foolish, he did not want to be the one to orchestrate her family’s downfall. He could have handed her over to the law; instead, he seized the opportunity that presented itself. She practically fell into his lap, so he kept her. He much preferred her company.
She stirred something inside him and made him think of what he was missing from his life. A part of him was afraid that he could not have what he truly desired. A few weeks ago, he would not have thought about it, but now it seemed like a possibility. Who knew he would focus on the opportunities rather than the obstacles?
Julius took a sip of wine, sat in an armchair, and stared into the fireplace. Now that he had hope, he would stop hiding away. Perhaps there would be a lady or two who would be willing to look at him the way Briar did. She did not care a damn about his scar, so much so that she even made him forget about it for a few hours. So, yes, he wanted a lady with her compassion, beauty,and wit. There was a woman out there for him. He just needed to find her. A reentry into society would provide him with the option of finding a suitable match. All the titillating gossip about how he became scarred should have died down, superseded by more sensational gossip.
