Page 41 of His Grace, the Duke
He met her gaze again. “Don’t I know it. You protect your heart at all costs, as you should. You have it wrapped in bands of iron. Rosalie, you say you can’t be what I want, and I say you’re wrong.”
She leaned her face into his hand. “We’ve talked about this and we—we want different things. Even setting Marianne aside—”
“Andisshe set aside?” He bent at the knees so he could look evenly in her eyes, his hands holding firm to her face. “Do you believe me when I say it’s over? Do you believe she means nothing to me?”
“I want to,” she admitted, her voice little more than a whisper.
“Thendo,” he pleaded. “You keep saying we must take you at your word, so take me at mine. I don’t want Marianne Young. Just as I don’t want to marry some society debutant with a reticule full of diamonds and a head full of bonnet ribbons.”
“Then what do you want?”
“I wantyou.”
Her heart stopped, breath in her throat. “Renley—”
His gaze softened, his thumb brushing her cheek. “You’re a rare and wild thing, Rosalie Harrow. You let people think you’re this little canary in a cage. I think sometimes you play the part so well, you even start to believe it. But Iseeyou.”
He lowered his hand, splaying it gently over her heart. She glanced down, watching as his hand rose and fell with each exhale. “You are not a frail, wounded bird,” he whispered. “You are a phoenix, just waiting to burn bright... and I mean to be close enough to feel your every flame.”
She struggled to keep the tears from falling. Why did he always know exactly what to say? “You would have me be free of all cages? You would accept me as I am?”
His smile fell as his eyes flashed with resolve. “The man who dares to change you will answer to me.”
One moment they were standing inches apart. The next, she was in his arms, fighting him for dominance in a fierce kiss. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, rising up on her toes to reach his perfect, soft lips. He groaned into the kiss, one arm around her waist while the other dug into her dark curls.
She opened herself to him, teasing him with tongue and teeth. The kisses sank deep. She felt the fire burning throughher, chasing away the chill of the rain. He trailed kisses along her jaw to her ear. She fisted her hands in his damp curls. Renley sighed with pleasure as she gave a sharp tug, pulling his head back. Their gaze met as they both panted for breath.
The words on the tip of her tongue came spilling out. “I won’t give up Burke.”
A long moment of silence stretched between them, broken only by the pattering rain. “I would never ask it of you,” he said at last. His breath was ragged as he added in almost a growl, “I want Burke right where he is.”
He went to kiss her again, but she pulled back, heart in her throat. “Wait—what—can you mean it?” She narrowed her eyes, searching his face, one hand cupping his strong jaw. He held her gaze, his blue eyes blown black with desire.
He looked... dangerous. Wholly unlike her laughing, kind friend. This was a man of deep passion. A man starving with need. “I say I want him where he is,” he growled, nipping at her chin, his breath hot against her skin. “Between us, behind us, under us. I like to share, and I like to be shared.”
Rosalie gasped, her body humming at the idea. “Renley—”
His voice lowered, a gravelly rasp in her ear. “I’ve wanted you from the moment I met you, Rose... but I’ve wanted Burke since I knew what it meant to want. He stays.”
The finality in his tone had her whimpering with need. He plunged in for another heady kiss and they shuffled backwards, seeking something to brace against. As they moved, Rosalie snagged her heel on her sodden skirts and took a stumbling step.
“Ouch.” Her eyes shot open. The stone hand of the dancing nymph stabbed her between the shoulders. She arched her back, pressing into Renley to escape the sudden pain.
But Renley was off balance too. She shrieked, squirming away as his weight pressed her harder against the stony hand. Suddenly, the statue rocked, tipping off its plinth. It fell to the ground with an echoing crash.
They both took in a shaky breath, meeting each other’s eye before they burst out laughing. Rosalie peered over the plinth, inspecting the damage. One arm of the statue was shattered into pieces and the body was cracked.
“Oh no . . . we broke it!”
Renley tipped his head to the side, eyes narrowed. “Hmm, is it just me... or does she look better this way?”
Rosalie slapped his chest with a laugh. “What are we going to do? Should we try to lift it back up?”
“Of course not,” he replied, nudging the statue with his toe. “What kind of shoddy craftsman doesn’t bolt it down? I say they wanted this to happen. We’ve done her a favor.”
“You’re impossible,” she replied with another laugh.
He turned her to face him, his smile turning devilish. “I am merely enterprising. One goddess shall fall, so another may rise.” He gripped her by the hips, lifting her onto the plinth and stepping between her legs.
