Page 60 of How to Seduce a Duke this Autumn
But always toward Charlene.
No, he most certainly would.
“You are not at the gallows,” he muttered when his mother arched a brow. “Is dragging me around like a prize bull with Miss Martin truly the method you think best?”
“I want what is best for this family,” she said off-handedly. “And it certainly isn’t spending the evening glowering in corners while everyone whispers about your brooding. It wouldn’t kill you to enjoy yourself.”
“It might,” he muttered. Not if the reason for his enjoyment wasn’t here. But she should be, so he had to get rid of his mother and Miss Martins.
Miss Martin gave another laugh. “If you don’t wish to dance, shall we at least take a turn about the room then?”
And then the back of his neck prickled, and his eyes crossed the ballroom, locking with hers. His breath hitched.
Charlene.
She stood near the farthest edges, her chin lifted in that defiant little tilt he knew too well. He couldn’t tell what, if anything, flashed in her gaze, but she was still the most beautiful woman in the room. Her gown wasn’t the flashiest in the room—but the way the candlelight clung to her curves, the swell of her breasts, her pale neckline… he couldn’t breathe.
He couldn’t look away.
She didn’t smile.
Did she even see him?
She didn’t frown either.
Her gaze moved to Miss Martin beside him.
Adam stiffened. He had forgotten about her.
The fingers on his arm suddenly felt like shackles, and he nearly wrenched his arm free. Fortunately, he kept hiscomposure, but Miss Martin’s hand still felt like a tentacle that refused to unwrap from him.
Charlene saw them. Of course she did.
And she was still looking.
What was going through her mind?
Did she think that he had chosen this? That he wanted this? That he was willingly paraded like a bull for auction?
Panic flared in his chest. He was going to be sick. Or punch someone. Maybe both. Yes, she must. What else? He didn’t know. But his limbs couldn’t work. His brain wouldn’t work. He tried to step forward, to call her name, to do something—but Miss Martin tugged him closer with that hideous grip, and he inwardly cursed. A foul one.
Charlene’s brows lifted—just a fraction—but it was enough.
She turned away.
No.
Not again.
He would not lose her to a misunderstanding. Not after everything. Not now.
He didn’t care if he pulled his arm from Miss Martin’s with enough force to startle a gasp from her. He didn’t care if the whole damn room watched. He didn’t care if the whole world burned.
But it didn’t come to that.
Because Charlene suddenly turned back to him, and with chin held high, marched straight toward him.
Chapter Fourteen
