Page 29 of Her Runaway Duke
Without realizing it, he had reached out to touch her. Her hand was soft and warm beneath his, but when his hand involuntarily began to wrap around hers, the tight pull of the skin reminded him of his injury. Of what he was.
He jerked his hand away, his eyes flying open as he sat upright in the chair, shocked at how he had forgotten himself.
“I am so sorry,” he said as he realized she had quit reading.
“For what?” she asked.
“For touching you. With my hand. I?—”
“It’s fine,” she said, a smile playing across her lips, the book still splayed in her lap, open to the page she had been reading. “Itwas a touching moment in the story and… I enjoyed a moment with you. Truly.”
He stared at her, trying to determine if she was having him on, but her expression was sincere enough that he knew she meant what she said.
Levi wasn’t sure what to do with her, a woman who apparently saw past the horror that covered his face. He had shut himself off from the world because he couldn’t handle the looks of disgust or pity that followed him around, especially when those expressions only matched what he felt himself when he looked in the mirror or fell asleep and the memories came rushing back in nightmares.
“You enjoy reading, then, do you?”
“I do,” she said, a smile stretching across her face. “Very much. I so love the idea of adventure, but since I cannot go anywhere myself, why not experience it from wherever I am?”
She was so earnest and excited when she spoke that he couldn’t help but want to share in it with her, in whatever way possible.
“Anything you find in this library that you enjoy can be yours,” he said softly.
“What do you mean?” she asked, her cheeks flushing and her breath quickening.
“I mean that my gift to you is any book you would like –The Enchanted Garden, or any of Shakespeare’s works that you are currently reading or anything else that you might find.”
“I couldn’t,” she said, shaking her head. “They are yours.”
“I only like to read each book once, and I have thousands in here that I am sure I will never get through.”
“You like to read as well?” she asked, her brows raising as the smile crossed her cheeks.
“I do,” he said, keeping tight control over his emotions. “The stories keep me company and replace my memories.”
“Are they really so bad?” she asked, leaning in, her hand coming to rest on his leg.
“They really are,” he said. “War is not something to talk about in polite company.”
Of course, there was far more haunting him than war, but that alone certainly hadn’t been the glorious experience many ladies would imagine.
“I don’t mind,” she said softly.
“You would if you knew what it was truly like. Men you spoke to moments ago suddenly—” He snapped back abruptly as her question brought him back to reality, a reality in which he had no right to be sitting so intimately with a woman as beautiful and vibrant as her, especially darkening her spirit by speaking of such things.
As he stood, light washed over him, and a quick glance out the window revealed that the sun was beginning to appear from behind the clouds.
“The rain has stopped,” he stated, the fact filling him with both dread and relief. “We just have to wait for the roads to dry and then you can be away from here.”
And with that, he bolted from the room as though he was being chased.
What had just happened?
One moment they were sitting together, enjoying a story and even bonding over their love of fiction, and the next he was running away as though she had insulted him.
Siena thought back over their interaction, not remembering anything that could have caused such a reaction in him. She sighed as she looked out over the grounds stretching behind thewindow, now illuminated by the sun that had broken through the clouds.
He was right. The rain had stopped. She walked to the window, crossing her arms over the book and holding it against her chest.
