Page 22 of How to Seduce a Duke this Autumn
Charlene bristled, her fingers tightening against his shoulder. “Do not mistake this for some act of pleasure. I am here only because decorum demands it.”
His lips curved faintly as they turned with precision, the whisper of her skirts brushing against his leg. “Then allow me to thank that ironclad decorum of yours. It does me a great service.”
Her frown deepened, though it only made him smile more. Her cutting glances might pierce others entirely, but Adam seemed to be made of steel. “For a man who claims to wish for peace, Your Grace, you do seem intent on stoking the fire.”
He leaned a fraction closer, his voice now edged with something more dangerous. “And for a woman who declares herself indifferent to me, you seem determined to keep striking the match.”
Her breath hitched at his words, the precision of his steps never faltering. Her annoyance rose with every beat of the violins, her pulse matching the tempo. “Do not insult me with these games, Your Grace. I know what lies beneath the surface of your words.”
“Enlighten me.”
She fixed him with a glare that could have frozen fire. “A Cross man polished to perfection, charming everyone until his way is secured. But beneath it all? Empty words and empty promises.”
Adam’s jaw tightened, but he remained steady, his grip resolute. “You may have me confused with my brother,” he said at last, each word measured. “But if all I am to you is a reflection of his sins, then I will do whatever it takes to shatter that mirror. Charming as I am.” A glimmer of mischief lit his gaze as he inclined his head just so, the faintest wink escaping unbidden. It was an instinctive gesture, born of years entwined in shared confidences and easy familiarity with Charlene, a deeply rooted bond that required no words.
“You overestimate your ability,” she retorted coldly, spinning gracefully under his hand before returning to him. “There is nothing you can say or do that will undo what has been done.”
“And yet you still dance with me,” Adam replied, his voice just low enough to cut through her resistance. “If my cause were so hopeless, would you have granted me this waltz, even for appearances? Or is it that some part of you remembers me before that night, Lady Charlene?”
Her breath caught. The question struck deeper than she cared to admit, but she masked her reaction with a sharp laugh. “What I remember, Your Grace, is that some lessons are learned only once. Do not test my memory.”
His gaze softened, almost imperceptibly, though his tone remained firm. “Then know this. I am here. Not as him, not as the man you believe me to be, but as the man who will spend every day proving otherwise. If you’ll only look hard enough to see it.”
“That is your burden, not mine, Your Grace.”
Adam’s gaze stayed locked on hers, unwavering. “A burden I will carry gladly.”
“Then enjoy carrying it,” she returned softly.
And he would. He would also keep holding his breath in her presence. She felt wild and untamed beneath the exquisite surface polish. Whatever sophistication this girl had cloakedherself in, it had gathered cracks—but that didn’t matter. Each of her flaws, each unstudied movement, pulled at something deep within him, a curiosity and a lust to unravel her further.
“Is that a position I can never hold again, Char?”
She stiffened. “Don’t call me that.”
Adam tilted his head and leaned close, nearly brushing the shell of her ear. “Relax,” he murmured, unreadable but charged with intention. Her breath hitched, an audible draw of air that made his grip on her waist tighten slightly. He adjusted their step, guiding her more assertively now, his hand firm against the curve of her back. “Just feel my body.”
And for the briefest heartbeat, she yielded. Her body softened against his lead, her movements trusting for just a measure before the tension crept back in again. But Adam didn’t mind. That brief moment meant everything to him.
Perhaps he had a chance after all.
*
She’d vowed neverto give a Cross brother the time of day again.
Then what was she doing here?
Charlene’s steps faltered slightly as Adam guided her into a wide turn. She caught herself, adjusting her footing with a sharp intake of breath. Her gloves felt too tight on her hands; the pressure of silk against her fingers made her all too aware of the firm warmth of his grip. The room seemed to sway with the music, violins filling the air with a lilting elegance she could not seem to match.
“I should warn you, Your Grace,” she said, her chin tilted high even as her words were clipped. “It’s better to stop distracting me with senseless platitudes. I am not an accomplished dancer. This requires my full attention.”
“Does it?” he replied, his tone maddeningly light as he adjusted their course with a gentle flick of his wrist. He led her through a backward glide. “You seem to be managing… just fine.”
Charlene scoffed. Her slippers brushed faintly against the marble with every step, and it took all her determination to keep her movements in rhythm with his. “I am managing, yes. But that does not mean I wish for conversation.”
Adam’s gaze rested on her, steady and appraising. The amber light of the chandeliers above reflected in his eyes, softening what might otherwise be a too-direct stare. “I can give you lessons to improve your dance,” he said smoothly.
She snapped her head up. “I beg your pardon?”
