Page 57 of A Trap by the Rakish Duke
She was lost in thought when the door to the drawing room was pulled open and Philip stood before her, his dark green eyes narrowed.
“What in Christ’s name are you both doing?” Philip thundered, his voice hard and filled with restrained fury.
He stared accusingly at Aurelia and Oliver, who sat across from each other at the tea table. Though they were merely conversing, the scene appeared far more intimate than it truly was.
Aurelia rose from her seat, startled, her eyes wide with surprise. Oliver also stood up, though he was far more composed, his expression a mix of concern and apology.
“You arrived just in time,” Oliver said evenly, attempting to ease the tension in the air. “I have been waiting for you.”
“That does not answer my question,” Philip snapped, his sharp tone now directed at his wife.
His eyes narrowed again as they met Aurelia’s, the weight of his emotions bearing down on her. He had only been away for an afternoon and she was already having tea with another man.
He couldn’t help the unyielding and irrational waves of jealousy that washed over him. Anger simmered beneath his skin and a fierce possessiveness gnawed at him. He felt a desperate need to pull Aurelia close and remind her to whom she belonged.
“We were having tea,” Aurelia’s voice cut through his brooding thoughts, soft but firm.
Philip licked his lips and furrowed his brow as he examined her face for signs of deception.
“Having tea while waiting for your arrival,” Oliver added, his tone calm, though his eyes flashed with understanding.
Philip exhaled sharply, nodding once, but he was clearly unconvinced. His gaze lingered on Oliver for a moment longer before he ordered curtly, “Wait for me in my study. I will be with you shortly.”
Oliver glanced at Aurelia, his expression apologetic. He mouthed a quick “Good luck” to her before making his way out of the room, leaving the Duke and Duchess alone.
The tension thickened as the door closed behind Oliver, the air between Philip and Aurelia crackling with unresolved emotion. Philip’s jaw was clenched, his steps slow and deliberate as he stalked toward her like a predator approaching its prey.
“You truly know how to drive me mad,” he said, his words resonating with a low, deep growl.
Aurelia felt her heart race as he approached. Her instincts screamed at her to run away and put some distance between them, but her feet remained rooted to the spot.
She lifted her chin, trying to steady her breathing. “I do not know what you are going on about,” she replied in a steady voice, although she could now sense the electricity flowing from his body a mere breath away.
Philip stopped in front of her, close enough that she could feel his warmth. His eyes darkened as they bored into hers, full of frustration and an emotion she couldn’t quite identify.
“What were you doing alone with Oliver?” he asked, his voice quieter now but no less intense.
“I was seeking answers,” she replied confidently, her hands clasped together in front of her. “Answers thatyourefuse to give me.”
Philip blinked, taken aback by her directness. He tilted his head slightly, his lips pressing together into a thin line.
“Seeking answers?” he repeated, nodding slowly as if weighing her words.
“Yes,” she said, meeting his gaze head-on. “And if that is all, I will return to my chambers.”
She stepped away from the table, bowing her head slightly as she turned to leave. But she hadn’t made it more than two steps before Philip’s hand shot out, gripping her arm and pulling her toward him.
A soft gasp escaped her lips as he backed her up against the closed window, his solid frame caging her in. His breath was hot against her skin, and his scent was reminiscent of rainy forests.
“You cannot simply walk away from me like that,” Philip murmured, his voice husky and thick with possessiveness.
His free hand moved to her waist, his fingertips lightly digging into her side. “I do not appreciate my wife being alone with another man even if he is my friend.”
Aurelia’s breath hitched and her mind clouded with desire despite herself. She could feel the strength of his body and the intensity of his gaze knocking the air from her lungs.
“I am your wife,” she whispered, her voice trembling but defiant, “not your possession.”
His hand slid lower, grazing the curve of her hip, making her shiver in response. “You aremine,” he growled softly, his lips almost brushing against hers. “Neverforget that.”
