Page 18 of Til Death Duke Us Part
She wanted him to do it again, to do something about the aching he’d caused. And the ring wasn’t even on her anymore. Could she blame the ring? Or did she only have herself to blame?
“Well?” He nudged her chin up with his knuckles.
She licked her lips. “They are wedding bands. But more than that, too. Alchemist rings are… different. They are made from a chunk of metal an alchemist has kept on him since childhood. When he finds his mate, he fashions the metal into two rings. Usually, they are buried in them. The rings open up a… I shouldn’t tell you.”
“I put the damn thing on my body. You’d better tell me, Persephone.” His grip on her chin tightened, and he was using her given name as if it was his right. Well, considering what they’d just done with one another, perhaps it was.
She brushed his hand away and resettled against the wall. She’d already told him enough to be exiled from the alchemists for the rest of her life. Why not tell him more. And he was right… He’d worn the ring. It had made him act in ways he wouldn’t have otherwise.
“The rings open up a connection between the wearers. If we wear them, I can feel your emotions and you can feel mine.”
“Why weren’t they buried?”
“Sometimes, if a husband and wife are estranged at death, they’ll be put in the tomb, there in case they want them back but not forced on their bodies as they cross into the afterlife. But the rings can… well, others are not supposed to wear them. The metal has bound two specific souls for decades, and some of that raw emotion is left behind.”
“So you’re saying what just happened only happened because of the rings?”
“Yes, precisely.”
“Bollocks. I wanted to fuck you before I put the ring on.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Well… if I’m being entirely honest, I rather… wanted… you to do that… to me. Before the ring. Oh God.” She drew her knees up and hid her face in her skirts. “I wouldn’t have, though. I would not have acted on that particularly ridiculous desire.”
And then, like a breeze on an autumn day, his knuckles were skimming up her neck and his chuckle was raising gooseflesh on her chest.
And the rings were somewhere else, discarded and forgotten. But still alive with memories. Unlike her own alchemist ring, wherever that was now.
“Perhaps,” she mumbled into the fabric, “the influence of the rings is still working on me.”
“Don’t give the rings credit, Graves. It’s me.”
“Your hubris knows no bounds.”
He picked up the rings and stood, held the other hand out for her.
She hesitated but took it, and he dragged her all the way up against his body. “I’m thinking we continue this liaison.”
“Certainly not.”
“I’m glad you took some time to consider the matter before rejecting me.” He swung her around and stole her breath. The world tilted as he dipped her and pressed her into the bed, a wicked grin making him irresistibly handsome. “Can I convince you to reconsider?”
She slapped her palm against his chest, pushed, and said in her coolest tones, “Tempting as it is…” And it was tempting. With his hair hanging like that, and his eyes still glowing with that golden light common to transcendents. There was a heat there. He still wanted her, and she still wanted him. She could not deny the truth of her body. “No. Thank you.” She rolled out from under him, and he crashed against the bed with a dramatic huff.
“I suppose it’s for the best. I am a duke, after all.”
“I’m glad you’ve come to your senses.” She picked up the rings with a handkerchief and wrapped them up tight, stowed them at the very bottom of her ratty valise.
If she was going to end her yearslong desire drought, it would be with a man who possessed a heart, not one who cared for no one but himself.
They ate dinner and prepared for bed in almost complete silence. The next words they shared were facing one another from either side of the rather narrow bed.
“I’m not sleeping on the floor,” he growled. He wore his trousers from that day and a loose, untucked shirt. It billowed about him, and the open V at the neck revealed too much golden skin.
“I’m not sleeping on the floor.”
“You’re used to less comfortable sleeping circumstances.”
“Which is why I deserve a little holiday. You’re the one inconveniencing me. I wouldn’t be here if you weren’t forcing me into it.”
