Page 42 of A Trap by the Rakish Duke
She detested that he found it comical when she was frustrated.
“And if I say I do not want to?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Then I shall stop dancing.” The moment the words slipped past her lips, his grip on her tightened.
“What do you want with me?” she asked as he spun her around, ending their dance with a dip.
The corners of his lips perked up. “Do you really want to know what I want with you?” he asked.
She didn’t respond, but he continued anyway.
“I want to do unspeakable things to you,” he whispered, his voice sending a shiver down her spine.
Her breath hitched and she felt her pulse quicken.
Was he out of his mind? They were out in public. How could he say such a thing?
“I…” She began, but her words trailed off as his fingers pressed into the small of her back, bringing their bodies closer.
“I want to take you upstairs,” he continued in his low, seductive tone, his lips barely grazing her ear. “Right now. And peel this dress off your body with my teeth.”
Aurelia’s knees nearly buckled at his words, her mind hazy with desire. She was lost in the moment, consumed by the heat of his body, the intoxicating scent of him, and the deep, husky timbre of his voice.
She wanted to surrender, to let him sweep her away and forget, if only for a little while, the bitterness between them.
But just as quickly as the moment had come, it ended. The music stopped, the final note echoing through the ballroom, and reality came crashing back. She blinked as if waking up from a dream, and in a sudden burst of clarity, she pulled away from him.
“I…I need some air,” she stammered, stepping back from him, her chest rising and falling with the effort to steady her breathing.
Philip’s eyes darkened with something akin to frustration, but he didn’t stop her. “As you wish, Duchess.”
Philip stood at the edge of the ballroom, his fingers tight around his glass of brandy, the amber liquid swirling with every move of his hand.
His jaw clenched as he replayed the moment on the dance floor. How had he allowed his control to slip like that? He had sworn to himself that he would remain detached, that Aurelia would never know the hold she had over him.
Yet, the moment her body was pressed against his, all those careful walls he had built around himself crumbled.
He had wanted her, and worse still, he had said it. In public.
His eyes followed Aurelia as she moved about the room greeting guests, her expression serene despite the tension that lingered between them. She was graceful and poised, everything a duchess ought to be.
But Philip knew the fire that lay beneath that exterior, the way her eyes could blaze when she was angry, the warmth of her skin when she was near him. She infuriated him and yet he could not deny the magnetic pull that kept him tethered to her.
“Your Grace,” a simpering voice interrupted his thoughts.
Philip glanced to his right and immediately recognized the faces of Lord and Lady Compton, a particularly meddlesome pair. He offered them a curt nod, his patience already wearing thin.
“We were just saying what a lovely evening it has been,” Lady Compton said in a sickly-sweet voice.
Her husband, Lord Compton, nodded along, his gaze moving between Philip and Aurelia. “Quite the gathering, though I must say, it is difficult to imagine such joy after the…tragic passing of your brother.”
Philip’s grip on his glass tightened and he resisted the urge to lash out. The Ton still spoke of Gabriel’s death as a tragedy; an unfortunate accident that had taken his brother too soon, but Philip knew the truth. Gabriel had not died by accident. His death had been planned.
“He was such a lively man,” Lady Compton continued, her eyes wide with exaggerated sympathy. “I do hope you are managing well, Your Grace. It must be difficult to bear such a loss.”
Philip’s breath came in short bursts, fury bubbling beneath the surface. If they only knew. If they could only comprehend what Gabriel had truly been.
“Ah, Compton!” a voice broke through the tension and Philip turned to see two of his friends, Thomas and Kenneth, striding toward them.
