Page 49 of The Duke's Sinful Deal
“So I have learned,” she replied. “Though I cannot help but notice that you have not extended such efforts toward me.”
The words left her before she could temper them, and for a brief moment, she considered retreating from them entirely.
Maxwell did not allow it.
A low chuckle escaped him, unexpected enough that Arabella felt it more than she heard it.
“Is that what you would prefer?” he asked.
Her breath caught, just slightly.
“No,” she said quickly. “I merely observe.”
“And yet you raise the matter?”
Her gaze faltered, then steadied. “It is difficult not to.”
He studied her for a moment longer, the amusement fading into something more measured. “You are flushed,” he said.
“I am not,” she returned, though the warmth in her cheeks betrayed her at once.
He did not press her further.
The silence that followed was not uncomfortable, but it was no longer light. Something had shifted again, the earlier ease giving way to something more uncertain, more aware.
Maxwell rose.
“I leave within the next few hours, Arabella,” he said.
The words landed cleanly, without preamble.
Arabella stilled.
“For how long?” she asked.
“About a week. Should not take longer than that.”
She nodded, once. “I see— All will be well here.”
He watched her, his gaze steady, as though waiting for something more. “Good.”
She said nothing, but the question lingered all the same. He knew it. She knew he knew it. Their arrangement. Their understanding. The quiet expectation that had settled between them after that first night.
Arabella drew in a slow breath, her hands folding together once more as though to contain the thought before it could form into words.
Maxwell stepped closer.
“You need not ask,” he said quietly.
Her gaze lifted to his, and the space between them felt smaller than it had any right to be.
“I was not going to,” she replied.
“No,” he said. “You were not.”
The tension held.
And neither of them moved to break it.
