Page 21 of Her Wicked Duke
His smug smile remained.
Anne cleared her throat. “I believe you are aware of my stalker, and that is possibly why Christian has entrusted me to your care while he is away.”
At the mention of her stalker, Alexander’s face fell and grew serious. She tried not to feel awful for dampening his mood and possibly worrying him, as she had her sister.
She still had the letter in her hands, and now she handed it to him. “I received this letter this morning. I am scared, Alexander. And I am seeking your protection. He threatens any suitor who comes near me. He waxes poetic, but it feels obsessive. He does not leave me alone, and he addresses every letter with the sameMy beautiful Anne. I am frightened.”
Her desperation had her stepping closer to him until, in her pleas, she had gripped the hem of his waistcoat. Upon realizing it, she went to pull away, but he gripped her wrists again.
The letter fluttered to the ground, and he purposefully stepped on it, grinding it into the soil. She found she quite liked the feel of his fingers wrapping around her skin, as if he might keep her there for his own enjoyment.
“You promised my brother to protect me, did you not?” she mumbled, growing small beneath his intense gaze.
It was as if he stripped her bare with his eyes alone.
“I did,” he answered, and relief flooded her chest. His face lowered to hers, his mouth close to her cheek. “However.” Her heart dropped almost as quickly at the flat, deep tone of his voice. “You told me you did not consider yourself my friend, and you have already labeled me as dangerous. And you were quite right. I do not do things out of kindness, Anne.”
He said every wrong thing, yet Anne’s breaths quickened at how he still held her, how he pressed her hands flat against his chest, and she felt his strong, thick muscles beneath her palms.
His voice dropped, sending shivers through her. “I am heartless, after all,” he whispered.
Her fingers curled, her nails digging into his waistcoat and shirt, as if she might grip him and pull what she needed out of him.
His face was still close to hers, his breath fanning her cheekbones when he spoke. He stepped closer to her until she found herself pressed up against one of the apple trees.
Forcing her eyes to meet his, she was startled by the intensity in them.
“You promised your friend,” she repeated, helpless against his whims. “What happened to simply wanting to do a good deed for a friend?”
Alexander laughed, and she felt the vibrations against her skin. Warmth bubbled in her chest.
“You rejected my help the first time when I tried to keep that promise. Why should I help you now? You were rather certain last night that you did not need anyone.”
Anne was at a loss for words. Yes, she had been hasty in her refusal, but she was so stubbornly independent at times. She had not expected Alexander to use it against her.
Had she truly thought she would come here and he would be willing to help her?
“I am asking you, Alexander, to please help me. Forget about my brother’s request now. I am a lady in need of protection.Your protection.”
“Oh?” he murmured, another chuckle spilling from his lips. “Mine, specifically?”
Her voice was shaky when she said, “Yes, yours.”
She felt his smile against the soft fullness of her cheek. “Well, after you rebuffed me several times last night, Anne, it appears I need quite a bit of convincing to offer my help now.”
Anne was affronted. Where was this man’s honor and duty? Fury sizzled within her, sweeping away her nerves and pleasure. It even took away her fear of returning to her home when her stalker could be watching.
She pulled away from Alexander sharply and made to leave. “Goodbye, Alexander.”
Before she could get three paces away, his fingers closed around her wrist once again, and she was yanked back, not gently. Her back hit the trunk of the tree, and she gasped at the impact, but Alexander did not seem to care. His eyes were dark and angry, his smirk sarcastic.
“Not so fast, Little Hatson,” he drawled.
He caged her in once again, lowering his face to hers. Anne should have been scared, but instead, she was none of those things. She was apprehensive, but she tilted her face up to his, feeling her anger slip away.
His mouth slotted over hers, and she did not know when she had done it, but her hands were flat against his chest again, and she gripped him hard as if she could not decide whether to pull him flush against her or push him away.
His kiss was as intense as his gaze was, passionate and devouring. It took her breath away, and the groan he let out when her lips parted almost made her legs give out. He kissed her as if he was desperate for her, both an angry demand and a desperate need. He kissed her as if yesterday was not the first time he had wanted to kiss her.
