Page 42 of Bound to the Heartless Duke
“No,” he agreed, without missing a beat. “But I find myself… invested.”
He looked back at her, catching her eye.
More silence ensued, and despite the distance between them, the air thickened with tension.
Unable to bear it, and before she spiraled into her thoughts, she stood up. “I need some air.”
She turned and walked away, not bothering to look back.
Magnus watched without stopping her. But as soon as she reached the door, he spoke up, knowing the exact thing to say to stop her dead in her tracks.
“You know he is not your most promising suitor.”
She huffed, irked by his audacity.
The door closed sharply. Except she was still standing in the room, refusing to storm out.
She turned around and pinned him with a glare. How dare he find such amusement from her dire situation? She wasn’tunaware of the oddness of her current suitor but he had no right to judge either.
Magnus was in the same position, his arms folded across his chest, one eyebrow raised like he had just won a wager.
“Who are you to decide which suitor is promising or not?” she bit out. “And what if he is? What if I think him promising?”
“Promising?” Magnus snickered. He straightened his spine and walked over to her, a swagger in his step. “That’s one word for it. Delusional might be another.”
“I didn’t say he was ideal,” she muttered, crossing her arms. “But he has land.Wealth.Ambition,” she emphasized.
“He also believes sonnets are an acceptable conversation starter.”
Magnus drew to a halt a short distance from her, yet something about it was provocative.
“You are insufferable,” she huffed.
But as much as Lily wanted to sound angry, she failed. The heat never quite reached her voice. She knew he wanted to coax something from her, something real and raw, and it terrified her how close he was to succeeding. She just wasn’t ready to give it to him.
“Most women say charming,” he replied smoothly.
“Well, I’m not most women,” she shot back
“No,” Magnus agreed, his tone softening. “You’re not.”
She blinked at that.
The look in his eyes—quiet, assessing, and far too perceptive—made her heart flutter unpleasantly in her chest. It was like a warning, a reminder that he saw her,reallysaw her.
And she didn’t know what to do with it.
“You think I’m making a mistake,” she stated flatly.
“I think you’re desperate,” he corrected bluntly. “And I think you’re smart enough to know it.”
The simple, cold truth made her flinch.
“And what would you suggest I do?” she asked, folding her arms tighter, as if she could hold herself together by sheer will alone. “Wait around for another Season, hoping that a duke’s carriage breaks down outside my door?”
“I’d suggest,” he said carefully, “you stop pretending that men like Bailey are your only salvation.”
Lily barked a dry chuckle. She couldn’t believe that someone like the Duke of Blackmore, who had a vast wealth and resources, would dare lecture her on what to do.
