Page 42 of A Rescue by the Rakish Duke
“Do you have plans on how to stop him?” Gwendoline asked in a calm voice that he had become fond and proud of. “Will you challenge him to a duel? Spread stories about him? Do you have a plan that you’re willing to share with me, or are all of them secrets that I will continue to beg for?”
Damian turned to face her. “At this point, you should already know my answer. We keep going around in circles. Tonight’s ball has proven that I must protect you from him.”
“Timothy’s lies are aboutme!” she exclaimed, trembling with indignation. “Aboutus!How can you say that it isn’t my concern? That I can’t do anything about it?”
“Let me handle it, Duchess!” Damian snapped, striding closer to her. “There is no need for you to dirty your hands or involve yourself. Not again!”
Gwendoline’s breath hitched at his nearness, but her anger refused to dissipate. She held on to it because she knew it wasdangerous for her not to. It wasn’t her body that was in danger. It was something else—something she was working hard to block.
“You think I’m fragile, don’t you? That I can’t handle everything Timothy is capable of? Is that why you’re always keeping me in the dark? I won’t be surprised if he turns out to be the worst criminal in London! There, I said it.”
“I don’t believe you’re fragile,” Damian gritted out. “It’s about protecting you. I’ve said it so many times, Duchess, and you’re not listening.”
“Not listening?” Gwendoline laughed bitterly. “I’ve been listening closely, Your Grace, and I don’t like what I’ve been hearing. You’re the one who never truly listens to me. You act as if you are protecting me, but you are just like the other men in my life—putting me in the dark. Making me a dependent, little bird.”
Her words struck a chord deep within him, and for a moment, Damian faltered.
“Gwendoline,” he began softly.
His hand was raised toward her as if trying to calm her. Could he really? Her face was red with fury, and her eyes were shimmering. She was trembling, and he could tell that she was trying her best not to cry.
“Don’t you dare patronize me,” she hissed, her eyes flashing. “Keep those words to yourself if you will tell me the same things. It’s not me who is going around in circles. It’s you.”
Damian stepped closer to her, his hands clenched in fists and his nails digging into his palms. He married a defiant woman. She was infuriating. But damn it, she was also intoxicating.
“You want honesty, Duchess?” he asked, his voice so low that it was almost a whisper. “Then I will give you honesty. Whenever I hear about Montrose’s lies, I want to destroy him. Not by reporting him to the authorities, but with my bare hands. I want to destroy him completely and utterly. But here you are, questioning me at each turn, not trusting the process.”
Their gazes locked. Damian no longer questioned it. There was always something in the air whenever she got too close. Hell, he felt as if the air could explode if that even made sense.
For a moment, they fell silent. Unbidden, his eyes fell to her lips. He licked his own, feeling something coil in his belly.
There it was again—heat. He had been trying to avoid it, but it was becoming stronger and harder to escape.
She looked back up at him. “You’re impossible,” she whispered.
But he knew she didn’t mean it. Her words lacked conviction, and at this point, her eyes were on his lips, too. Her hands were shaking at her sides, and she bit her lower lip, chewing on ita little. Damian followed the movement, feeling something stir inside him even as he reminded himself that it wasn’t a good idea.
“You’re infuriating,” he shot back.
It was a half-truth—a truth that didn’t quite matter when his fingers itched to touch her, and his body wanted to close the gap between them. He didn’t want any space left.
None.
As if it had a mind of its own, his hand brushed a stray curl from her cheek. The contact was so brief that somebody else could have missed it, but neither could, not when it jolted them both. Gwendoline’s eyes widened, her lips parting. She let out a soft, shuddering breath.
“Damian,” she whispered, biting her lower lip.
His restraint snapped.
“I won’t be able to control myself if you keep doing that, wife,” he growled.
“Keep doing what?” Gwendoline asked, genuinely bewildered.
Closing the little distance between them, he cupped her face in his hands and lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss was fierceand unrelenting, the innocent press of lips quickly turning into a battle of tongues as they deepened the kiss. Gwendoline’s hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer as she met his passion with her own.
Damian ground his erection against her belly. She moaned softly against his lips as his hand crept under the hem of her dress. She didn’t fight the intrusion. Instead, she spread her legs for him so that he could ease his body between them, but he had other ideas.
His fingers found the heat between her legs, and he groaned when he found her wet.
