Page 17 of The Untamed Duke
“I’ll find a way,” Grace vowed, fists clenched. “Bellmar won’t be stolen from me.” Reaching her room, the door securely locked, sobs of frustrated fury choked her. Drawing upon the same reserve of strength that pulled her through her parents’ deaths, she swallowed them, dashing away tears with the back of her hand. Still, she almost crumpled under the crushing despair.
Almost.
* * *
Sometime later,Grace roused herself and left her room. She considered the duke’s words that he knew nothing of the encumbrance. Of course, he could just be saying that to hold Tristan at bay. Perhaps he rather liked the idea of owning her pretty little stables and manor house.
She carried the books borrowed from Lord Calmont’s library and slipping inside the dimly lit room, she pulled the drapes on a set of windows to allow more light. In the process of returning each of the five books to their appropriate spaces, she heard a slight rustle behind her.
The Duke of Richeforte rose from a leather chair situated by the fire. A decanter of brandy sat on a small table beside him, and he held a glass in his hand.
Grace jumped, so surprised at seeing him, she dropped the remaining three books.
“You startled me, my lord.”
“Your Grace,” he corrected smoothly, taking a sip of the brandy and gesturing toward the bookshelves. “Collecting more weapons?”
Grace smiled despite herself. “Just returning a few.” She could not help thinking he was waiting there for her, anticipating she'd find her way to the library. The space went wholly unused by the majority of Lord Calmont’s guests. In fact, Grace suspected she was the only one who'd visited it in some time, with the exception of Lord Calmont.
She bent down, retrieving the books from the floor, and when she stood, Nicholas was much closer. So close that all the air around her seemed to dissipate and she could only take deep, shallow breaths. Somehow, she was backed against the wall of shelves and he stood directly in front of her, crowding her space. This was extremely dangerous...to be alone with him...in such a secluded area...with his mouth so firm and kissable looking…
Grace shook her head in confusion, clutching the books tight against her chest. She must keep this man at arm’s length until his intentions regarding her home and her horses were revealed. Although the heat of his eyes left her with a strange urge to lounge and stretch like a cat enjoying a puddle of sunshine.
Very slowly, Nicholas placed the glass on a shelf above her head, the movement of his arm briefly caging her in, and with a sharp intake of breath, Grace turned her face away from the firm bicep covered in broadcloth.
“What are you doing here?”
He cocked his head as if her question puzzled him. “Waiting for you, of course.”
“This is highly improper,” she managed to say, her tone almost normal, her heart pounding so fast, she felt dizzy.
Blast it, he smells delightful…
His mouth quirked in a ghost of a smile. “I rarely do anything proper.”
She tilted her face back to his, searching his eyes because the smile on his lips did not quite reach the green depths. “Because you are wicked and dangerous and—"
“You’ve been crying.”
How he could possibly know that was shocking. She’d scrubbed away any trace of tears, and she knew her eyes weren't swollen. She became acutely aware of his gaze scrutinizing every line of her face, peering so deep inside her, she felt...exposed. Vulnerable. Wishful.
“No, I haven’t.”
“Don’t lie to me,” Nicholas said, silky and soothing, but the underlying current in his tone made Grace’s stomach clench with a twist of something unknown. The sweet excitement their exchange roused inside her was unfamiliar. She’d never felt it before with anyone. “Tell me why,” he ordered, his thumb coming up and brushing the upper curve of her cheek ever so gently.
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Are you so sure? I am very familiar with the tears of a woman. I’m usually the cause.”
The brief flash of pain and pleasure Grace witnessed on his features startled her. And saddened her. “You should change your methods when dealing with the fairer sex.”
“Why? They get me what I want most.” His lashes lowered and he leaned forward until their lips nearly touched.
“Do they, really?”
“Always.”
“What do you want now?” Grace closed her eyes because the duke was about to kiss her and she wanted her treacherous heart to accept that. She needed her brain to shut off all thoughts that this man possessed the means of destroying her life.
