Page 25 of A Trap by the Rakish Duke
He had expected some form of resistance from her. After all, she was the daughter of a man who’d done nothing but scheme and manipulate his way through life. She was bound to have inherited a knack for deception, and Philip wasn’t about to let himself fall into whatever trap she might be laying.
“Why archery, Aurelia.” It was a quiet command, not a question. “Is this another attempt to keep me at a distance? Or are you simply distracting yourself from the reality of your situation?”
She turned her head slightly, just enough to meet his gaze. “Is that what you think this is, Your Grace? A distraction?”
Her voice was soft but edged with a challenge, as though she knew full well what game they were playing.
Philip said nothing, allowing the silence to do the work for him. He wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of rising to her bait. Instead, he studied her; the set of her shoulders, the way she held the bow too tightly, her lips pressed together in concentration.
Aurelia shifted, drawing in a deep breath as if steadying herself. She raised the bow once more, aligning it with the target, though her movements were still too stiff, too deliberate.
She was trying too hard, and he knew why.
This wasn’t about archery at all. It was about control; control over her life, her circumstances, andhim.
“I wonder,” she said quietly, her eyes fixed on the target, “if you are determined to see the worst in me because it is easier than acknowledging that we might be more alike than you think.”
Philip’s jaw tightened. “Do not flatter yourself. You and I are nothing alike.”
Aurelia lowered the bow slightly, just enough to glance back at him over her shoulder. “Are we not?”
Her expression was unreadable, but there was something unsettling in the way she looked at him; something knowing.
“You hide behind your duty to your brother and your need for vengeance, but perhaps it is only because you’re afraid of feeling anything else.”
His stomach churned. No one dared to speak to him like this, especially not the daughter of the man responsible for his brother’s death. But there she stood, challenging him, her words hitting closer to the truth than he cared to admit.
“Enough.” His voice was sharp, cutting through the charged air between them. “You know nothing of my reasons, nor of my brother. Do not presume to understand what drives me.”
Aurelia turned fully to face him now, the bow hanging loosely in her hand. “Then explain it to me,” she demanded softly, her eyes locked onto his. “Tell me why you hate me so much.”
Philip’s pulse quickened, but he didn’t let it show. He couldn’t let her see that her words had any effect on him. She wanted him to react, to let his guard slip, but he wouldn’t give her that satisfaction. His expression hardened and he took a deliberate step closer, towering over her.
“I do not hate you, Duchess,” he said, his voice low and even. “I do not think about you enough to hate you. You may try to provoke me, but do not mistake my actions for interest.”
Aurelia stood her ground, lifting her chin slightly as if to meet his challenge. “Perhaps you should ask yourself why I am worth your attention, Your Grace.”
Her voice was still calm, but there was a flicker of something else in her eyes; something more dangerous.
Philip studied her for a long moment, the tension between them thickening.
His wife was more cunning than he had anticipated, more skilled at playing this game. But he wouldn’t be drawn in. Not by her provocations and certainly not by the flicker of temptation she seemed determined to ignite in him.
“Whatever game you are playing,” he said quietly, leaning in just enough to make his presence undeniable, “know this: Ialwayswin.”
Aurelia’s gaze didn’t falter. Instead, she gave a slow, deliberate smile that unsettled him more than he cared to admit. “Then let the games begin.”
She turned back to the target and raised the bow once more, but Philip didn’t step away. He remained close, his eyes never leaving her. The pull between them was unquestionable, and he knew she could feel it too, but he refused to give her the upper hand.
Her fingers loosened, and the arrow flew forward, striking the edge of the target with a soft thud.
Philip exhaled slowly, his gaze steady on her as she turned back, the weight of the moment hanging between them like a drawn arrow.
“I think that’s enough for today,” she intoned, her voice once again masking the tension that lingered in the air.
Without waiting for his response, she began to walk away, leaving him standing in the field, his fists clenched at his sides.
Philip had never been one to lose control, especially not over something as trivial as a woman. But as he watched her retreating figure, a grim realization began to dawn on him.
