Page 41 of A Trap by the Rakish Duke
Chapter Fifteen
“Dance with me,” Philip said to Aurelia, offering her his hand.
Aurelia had hoped to avoid him for the remainder of the evening, but Fate, it seemed, had other plans.
She had been standing near the edge of the ballroom, a glass of punch in her hand, pretending to be engrossed in the conversation of two ladies standing nearby.
But she was all too aware of Philip’s presence as he made his way toward her. Her heart rate quickened, though she told herself it was from annoyance, nothing more.
Her fingers tightened around the delicate stem of her glass, her chest constricting with the tension that had simmered between them all evening.
“Must we?” she asked, her voice low.
Philip’s eyes glinted with frustration. “I insist. The Duchess cannot very well sit out the evening without at least one dance with her husband.”
Of course not.
The perfect image of a happy couple must be maintained at all costs. She had no choice. Not in this.
With a stiff nod she set down her glass and placed her hand in his. His grip was firm and as he led her to the dance floor she felt the familiar jolt of electricity from his touch.
She tried to ignore the warmth that crept up her arm, tried to steel herself against the pull of his presence. Philip’s breath did not stink of alcohol, yet there was something about his narrowed gaze that made her think he had been drinking; something unsteady and volatile simmering beneath the surface.
Ignore him.At leastuntil the dance is over.
When they reached the center of the dance floor, Philip pulled her closer than was proper. He wrapped his arm securely around her waist, his other hand clasping hers with a confidence that only made her feel more unsteady.
“Let me know when you start to feel pain in your ankle,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble in her ear. “And we shall retreat.”
Aurelia gritted her teeth, fighting the urge to snap at him. How dare he? One moment he was cold and distant, the next he behaved as though he cared about her well-being.
It was maddening. She wanted to shout, to tell him to stop confusing her, to pick a side; either be indifferent or be kind. The constant back and forth was unbearable.
“You do not need to concern yourself with that,” she said tightly. “I am quite capable of dancing through the entire number.”
Philip’s grip on her tightened slightly, though his expression remained calm. “I care about my Duchess. What would I do if she suddenly collapsed in front of all these people?”
Aurelia’s eyes flashed with anger. “You do not care about me,” she hissed. “Not truly. Stop pretending that you do.”
“I care about you as my wife, as the Duchess of Oakdale,” he replied evenly. “That is more than enough.”
Her chest tightened at his words.
Wife, in name only.
It stung more than she cared to admit.
She had started this game, hadn’t she? Trying to seduce him to uncover the truth about her father and his brother. Yet,somewhere along the way, the lines had blurred. She had begun to develop feelings for him against her better judgment, and worse still, he knew it. He had seen the weakness in her, and now he wielded it like a weapon.
The music swelled around them as they moved in perfect harmony, but the tension between them grew heavier with each passing second. Her skin tingled under his touch, and despite her best efforts, his warm, masculine scent filled her senses, clouding her mind with thoughts she had no business entertaining.
She hated him. She wanted him. It was infuriating.
“Stop staring at me like that,” she warned as they danced.
Philip smirked. “I cannot help myself. You are right in front of me,” he told her.
“I am certain you can look elsewhere,” she huffed.
