Page 9 of Her Duke Next Door
Dominique gave her a crooked smile. His eyes were vividly hazel, alluring, and she had to blink so as not to lose herself in them. And then she questionedwhyshe was losing herself in them.
Do not be a fool, Mary, she chided herself.He is nothing more than a handsome face.
“Well, I must admit, I thought you were here to apologize for your earlier behavior,” he told her.
“Excuse me? I have nothing to apologize for!”
“Oh, I believe you do. And talking badly about me to my own party guests? Poor,poordecorum, my lady.”
“I did not know you and theintolerableman I met this morning was the same man.”
“And if you had?” His lips curled. “I do not think a woman so brazen as yourself would have reduced her anger either way.”
“Your Grace?—”
“Because otherwise, you would not be arguing with me now. Let’s not force politeness, shall we?”
Her hands balled into fists and she hid them behind her back. This man’s presence filled her senses. He was broad, his shoulders wide-set and his neck muscled, hinting at what sort of physique he may possess underneath.
She forced herself to not let that thought go further.
“What was it you wished to say about my assisting my daughter?”
He began to come around the side of his desk, and Mary took a step back, only to find the door at her back. She steeled herself, lifted her chin, and reminded herself of what she had been through to acquire freedom and a voice for herself.
“You should be apologizing to me for this morning,” she said. “And you are really a man to talk about rushing to assist your daughter when she has needed your assistance for the weeks you are absent from her life. What about being there for her then, Your Grace?”
He stalked toward her, something burning angrily in his eyes.
Suddenly, the study was too small, and she felt like prey.
He let out a dark, rumbling laugh. “Oh, Lady Yore!” He said her name like it was a joke and she was the punchline. “This insolent, entitled mouth of yours will land you in trouble one day.”
Mary shook her head, pressing her lips together before she next spoke. “Do not mistake me for a weak woman, Your Grace. I have lived through hell. I cannot be fazed by a man who neglects his daughter and rides on power trips of intimidation.”
“Is that so? You have lived through hell?”
He drew closer until he was standing before her, staring her down. Mary refused to back down from his gaze. Once upon a time, she would have lowered her eyes to the floor, submitted, but not now.
Weakness had almost cost her life. Her sister’s life. She had fought to raise Eloise independently despite it being unheard of for a woman of the Ton. But she had left that life behind these past four years. A man like the Duke of Livingston, arrogant and intimidating, neglectful and challenging, did not get to undo her hard work.
He leaned in closer. His hands braced against the side of her head but he did not touch her. Mary could smell the masculine scent coming off him and fought the urge to close her eyes as she breathed in deeper. Her heart pounded. She had never thought of a man since Patrick’s death. And now her whole body was alight, her breath shallow, and her chest pushing against her corset.
Breathe, she reminded herself.
His sheer closeness threatened to unravel her. What was it about this man that had her so weak already? Hewasinsolent. Hewasawful.
And charming. And handsome. And his voice when he spoke her name…
It snuck through every defense she built around herself.
His breath hit the side of her neck, and she reacted with a shiver.
She expected anger for stating his neglectful parenting. She expected more taunts.However, Dominique leaned further in, and Mary tensed, waiting for the brush of contact. His lips were so near to the shell of her ear she swore she felt him but she knew she did not truly.
“I would like to propose a truce, my lady.”
She barely heard him, lost in the sultry sound of his voice.
