Page 17 of A Christmas Temptation for the Duke
Daniel let a soft groan escape his lips as he stood over her. The effort it took to not snatch at her as he did the previous evening was tremendous, but he towered over her nonetheless, set on intimidating her into submission because one as rebellious as she needed nothing less.
“You are upset with me,” he glowered at her. “Admit it.”
“Oh my, you are perceptive.”
“You set the dog on my home.”
She scoffed. “I did no such thing.”
“So, I am to believe this is some sort of coincidence?”
“I do not care what you believe.” She raised both eyebrows at him, surprisingly brave in the face of his hostility. “Nor do I care to stand here and be… be accused of something I did not do. So, if you do not mind…” She turned to leave.
Daniel should have let her go.
He wanted nothing to do with Lady Alison. Since last night, all he had been able to think about was her defiance, the way he had pulled her into his body and held her mouth closed, and how she had bitten him.
Daniel grew up as the patriarch of a house filled with women. He was used to being obeyed. So, to be defied like this… it undid him completely. It made him want to assert himself, for that was his natural way. It made him want to test just how strong-willed Lady Alison thought that she was.
“I did not give you permission to leave.” He grabbed her arm.
She froze and looked back, eyes wide as she found his hand. “Let me go…” she breathed; it misted in the air from the cold.
“Apologize,” he said.
She curled her upper lip at him. “You first.”
“Me? What on earth am I expected to –”
“You know well what,” she snapped. “And if you want another apology from me, you can set the precedent.”
He groaned. Still holding her by the arm, he had to force himself to not pull her into him. He bared his teeth, his eyes flicked to her troublesome mouth, and his pulse quickened to a point of absurdity.
“If you think I am going to apologize, you are as daft as that mutt.” Then he scoffed. “You two are quite similar, in fact. Both tend to bite.”
She smirked. “Oh, did Pickle bite you? Good boy,” she said, scratching the dog’s ear.
“You should …” Daniel slowly pulled Lady Alison closer. She did not fight him, perhaps even wanting him to hold her body as he did last evening. “You should not press me.”
“Is that what I am doing?”
“You know what you are doing,” he growled. “And you would be wise to for once heed my warning. Believe me when I say, it is the best for both of us.”
“The best for you, perhaps.” She smirked at him, apparently delighted in the response he was giving her. “Not for me.”
“You are…” His lip twitched as his frustration grew. “Beyond frustrating.”
“You bring it out in me,” she shot back.
They were standing face to face. Less than a foot apart. Daniel’s eyes flicked down to her smirking lips. He licked his own. He felt a pull deep within, the urge to shut her mouth the only way she might respect. And oh… how he yearned for it.
But then, as if fate was stepping between them a second time, Pickle bucked Alison and wiggled free, falling to the ground and then scampering away.
“Pickle!” she cried after the terrier as it sprinted back to her home. “Come back here!”
The spell was broken and Daniel released Lady Alison quickly as if she had bitten him.
“Like dog like owner,” he scoffed. And then, needing to get as far from her as he could, he turned and strode back to his home.
