Page 37 of How to Seduce a Duke this Autumn
Instead, he mumbled, “Horrifying, I’d imagine.” And then fell back onto his heels, running a hand down his face as he worked to steady his breathing. Charlene might’ve been half-smothered by the leaves, but he was the one suffocating.
The world seemed to close in around them, muffled by the leaves and the persistent fog. Adam leaned forward, bracing himself with one hand against the damp ground as he hovered over Charlene. His other hand instinctively reached out, brushing aside a stray leaf clinging stubbornly to her calf. Her skin felt impossibly soft under his fingers, chilled by themorning air but warming beneath his touch. She shivered, a subtle tremor running up her leg, and his jaw tightened.
She didn’t move away.
Was this permission?
Adam’s eyes flickered to her face. Her lips were slightly parted; her breath came out in shallow puffs of vapor against the cold air. Her gaze locked with his, a mixture of heat and vulnerability that rooted him to his spot. His fingers hesitated at her ankle before curiosity—or something much deeper—urged him onward.
“Charlene, stop me.”
But all she did was give a faint shake of her head.
Slowly, deliberately, his hand trailed up her lower leg. His thumb brushed the delicate curve of her knee, then higher, the fabric of her petticoat bunching beneath his exploring palm. The warmth of her skin seeped through his skin as his fingers roamed, passing her knee. Each inch brought more heat, more tension, and his heart thundered like hooves on cobblestones.
I have to stop.
By the time he reached her thigh, her breathing had quickened. A soft gasp escaped her lips, faint but deafening against the silence. Her cheeks flushed a deep crimson, but she didn’t pull away. If anything, her body seemed to edge closer. Adam swallowed hard, his focus darting between the inviting curve of her leg beneath his hand and the undeniable invitation in her gaze.
“Charlene…” he murmured, his voice rough, unintentionally betraying the low burn smoldering beneath his control.
She didn’t respond with words. Instead, her hand came to rest lightly atop his, her fingers trembling as they curled around his palm. For a moment, she merely held him there, her grip steady despite the way her chest rose and fell in uneven rhythm.And then, gently—hesitantly at first—she guided his hand higher.
Adam’s fingers trembled where Charlene’s hand rested, her touch light yet searing against his skin. Her chest rose and fell unsteadily, and despite all the promises he’d made to himself, he couldn’t pull away.
“What are we doing, Charlene?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered. “Show me!”
“I must not go further than this, Charlene.” The words came out ragged, a thin thread of resistance barely holding him back. He felt the tension within him coil tighter, threatening to snap, every thought centered on where her trembling fingers met his.
She didn’t answer, not aloud. Her hand simply curled around his, her grasp growing steadier even as her breaths hitched. And then, with a boldness that left him utterly wrecked, she guided his hand, inching it higher.
“Charlene,” he began, his throat dry, “it’s always been you. Only you.”
Her lips parted, as if wavering on the verge of protest. “What? What do you mean?” Her hand went slack, and his heart twisted as he watched her fold inward, retreating.
He couldn’t stand it—not her hurt, not her doubt. “I’ve held you above everything, Charlene. I put you on a pedestal so high, I couldn’t even reach you. And I’ve hated myself for it every day since because it was my fault that I was out of reach and I didn’t protect you from him.”
Tears slipped past her lashes, and she quickly swiped them away. “You’ve always been my closest friend, Adam. Always. But then…” She faltered, dropping her gaze.
Then it all went to blazes.
She suddenly turned her head sharply, her eyes locked on something just beyond him. Her lips parted in shock.
Adam followed her line of sight, his blood running cold when he saw the silhouette. A movement. Almost imperceptible at first, drifting at the edges of the fog-draped park like a shadow given form.
Adam’s thumb grazed Charlene’s knuckles, his heart hammering against his ribs. Her trembling fingers curled tighter around his hand, a whisper of breath escaping, “Adam…”
“Someone’s watching us.” Her voice faltered, barely audible. Her eyes opened wide. Uncertainty. Fear.
“Stay still.” Adam’s eyes never left the stranger.
“Who are they?”
“I don’t know.”
The figure stood just beyond them, where the tree-lined path blurred into a haze that sent goosebumps through him. It was a woman. She wore a hat, its wide brim failing to mask the air of mystery that clung to her like the swirling mist. Her shape was slight, draped in hues dulled by the gloom. Adam couldn’t make out her features, for the fog seemed to cling to her, rendering her ghostlike.
