Page 135 of The Good Duke
“So that is all you wanted from me, then?” he called out, staying her halfway across the room. “Hmm? To have your itch scratched?”
Regal as a queen, Persephone faced him and arched a finely shaped eyebrow. “Isn’t that allyouwanted?”
Ithadbeen. That’d changed just a short while ago when he’d allowed himself to see that which he’d been fighting. He wanted Persephone Forsyth in every way possible. He’d fought the truth for so long…and maybe this was why.
For as much as he loved her—and he suspected he always had—Persephone would never see him in that light.
Simon steeled his jaw.
They stood locked in a silent battle; the two of them had reached an impasse.
As she made a slow, dignified march to the front of his office, he glared at her retreating figure.
Persephone paused and took a moment to tuck back the strands that’d come loose from her serviceable chignon. If he were a gentleman, he’d have offered his assistance and set that messy coif to rights.
He did not.
For in that minute, he hated her. He hated her for having kissed him all those years ago and for being unmoved by that embrace when he’d fallen more than half in love with her that day. He hated her for reappearing in his life and stirring remembrances of a friendship he’d missed so much.
With a calm he did not feel, Simon perched on the edge of his desk and crossed his arms at his chest.
“Seph?” he called when she made to reach for the handle.
Persephone hesitated a moment and then turned back, slowly facing him. She stared at him with a question in her eyes.
“You made an already enjoyable afternoon all the more diverting.” He curled his lips in a cool grin. “Thank you for that, Seph.”
Some of the color slid from her cheeks. “Of c-course,” she said softly.
Of course.God, did nothing get a rise out of this infuriating woman?
She started to go.
“Seph, from a friend to a friend,” he began.
Persephone stared at him with a hopeful expression. “Yes, Simon?”
Ah, her mind was on thosebloodyreferences.
“Do you think Lady Isabelle will enjoy a violent spanking like the one I gave you?” he asked, catching his chin in his hand. “Or do you believe that roughness is reserved for lovers, not ladies?”
Persephone flinched more than she had from any of the slaps he’d landed on her beautiful buttocks. “I—I…” She bit her lower lip.
At least he’d rung some response out of her.
“Given I’m not a lady, nor have I ever been one, I cannot speak to what is appropriate—if anything—between you and your future duchess, Simon.”
“Persephone?” he said. “There’s one last thing.” He narrowed his eyes. “You will remain in my employ until the terms of our arrangement are complete. On the day I wed, you are free to go wherever it is you’ll go next. Is that clear?”
A shadow fell across her eyes, and she gave a reluctant nod. “Yes, Your Grace. Very clear.” Persephone sank into a curtsy.
As she quietly took her leave, Simon, staring after her, had never felt like a bigger bastard or hated himself more than he did in that instant. He wanted to call her back. He wanted to beg her forgiveness and duel himself for having spoken as he had to her.
But he’d be damned if he humbled himself. He’d spent nearly his entire life a humiliated, pathetic fellow and he’d not be that man again.
Not even for Seph.
Chapter 25
