Page 102 of Bound By the Duke
It was feather light, as though he couldn’t help himself. As though his thumb had been itching, and touching her was the only cure.
“Are you well?” he murmured.
For once, his composure faltered, softened by something raw. And that tenderness made her still.
It was the sort of touch that stole her breath. And yet she saw the flicker in his eyes. Like a question he hadn’t voiced.Wasour intimate moment too much last night? Did I hurt you somehow?
No,she wanted to tell him.No, I want more.
When she unconsciously clenched her fists again at her sides, he noticed. His gaze darkened at the crescents her nails dug into her palms.
She was hurting herself, and he hated it. He couldn’t bear the sight.
Before he knew what he was doing, he took her hands. His hands wrapped around hers, and he unfurled her fingers, wanting to lessen any pain she might have inflicted upon herself.
She watched him, the knot in her stomach loosening. He looked so worried, as though he was preventing something more ghastly than just holding her hands.
Then, as though sensing her stare, he looked at her.
“Don’t hurt yourself. I told you that before,” he whispered, his breath brushing her hand.
Before she could utter a word, he kissed her palm softly, delicately.
Her breath whooshed out of her. The intimacy of the gesture, her distant husband kissing the palm of her hand, broke her defenses. Heat crawled up her neck.
And in that fragile, dangerous moment, the request escaped her.
“I… I wondered if—if we might sleep in the same room again.”
It was as if the words froze everything else.
At first, confusion flickered across Percival’s face. Then, when realization dawned, it was as though a shutter slammed down over his eyes. In an instant, all the warmth in his expression vanished.
His jaw tightened. His gaze cooled. Then, he released her hands.
“No.”
Her stomach dropped, and her breath stuttered.
“No?” She blinked rapidly, her lips parting.
“I told you before,” he said, his tone clipped. He had already stepped back. “I will not have that conversation.”
Her throat burned, but she wasn’t sure with what. Perhaps anger. But it was wounded, flaring hot behind her ribs.
It seemed like they were about to have the same conversation over and over again.
“You chase me away at every turn,” she burst out, her voice trembling. “I cannot understand you. Y—You were on the verge of—of making love to me last night! Why are you doing this, Percival?”
The sound of his name cracked between them.
Percival stiffened, and his eyes darkened as if he were stung. His hands were flexing at his sides, as restless as his frantic heartbeat.
“Nothing changes.” He settled for that, even though his heart had a thousand other answers. “My decision is final.”
“Final?” Her voice rose, strengthened with disbelief that turned into frustration. She shook her head, causing some strands of hair to tumble loose. “Why must you be so cruel? Why hold me in your arms, only to turn me away? Why give me a taste, only to starve me again?”
“Because,” he bit out, “it must be this way.”
