Page 82 of Bound to the Heartless Duke
All that mattered was her breath, which stuttered as he deepened the kiss, slow and all-consuming, as if he was memorizing the taste of her.
She moaned softly against his lips, and he exhaled sharply, his control waning. But it wasn’t lust that raged inside him. It was something more.
Need.
Hope.
Love.
She pulled back only a breath, her forehead touching his, her lips swollen, her eyes half-lidded.
“To you, this is nothing,” she said, her voice quivering.
She knew that after this kiss, he would revert to his cold, distant, confusing self.
“To me,” he murmured, his eyes still closed, his thumb tracing the seam of her wet lips, “this is dangerous.”
And with that, he pulled away. Abruptly. Without warning.
Lily blinked in confusion as the heat between them vanished like a flame pushed into snow.
Magnus didn’t look at her. He stood up, brushing down his coat. And when he spoke again, his tone was cold. “I’ll wait for you in the carriage. Take your time with the play.”
Then, he turned and left without a backward glance.
And Lily was left in the theater box, her heart pounding, her lips tingling, unsure whether she had just been kissed or warned or messed with.
CHAPTER 19
The morning light filtered through the silk curtains, painting golden lines across the floorboards of Medlin Manor. Once, it was her home; now, it was something else. Something… borrowed. Something fading.
Lily stood still in the middle of her room, dressed in what could only be described as a dream turned into fabric. The delicate lace and satin shimmered like moonlight, the sleeves so fine they could melt at the warmth of a glance.
It was a wedding gown.Herwedding gown.
She smiled at her reflection in the mirror. Or rather, she tried to. It wasn’t that the smile wasn’t genuine; it was, but something heavy tightened in her chest. Probably because of the phantom of a brother whose absence had grown more disturbing by the day. Or because of a husband whose gaze burned hotter than a flame.
A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.
She took a deep breath. “Come in.”
She turned around to findhimthere.
Magnus Wyndham.
Speaking of the devil.
He looked as composed as ever, dressed in a tailored dark navy coat that only accentuated his jawline. But his eyes… those traitorous eyes always told more than he let on.
“You look…” He hesitated.
Was that a rare crack in his armor?
Lily tilted her head. “Yes?”
He straightened his cuffs, his eyes flicking to hers. “Like you’re trying very hard to make this real.”
That stung more than she let on.
