Page 26 of The Devil's Accidental Duchess
“And you prefer accuracy over everything else?”
She shot him a pointed look. “I would like my knowledge to be based on things that have been observed and proven correct. If not by me, then by others I consider reliable at least.”
Ah, but the truth is sometimes darker than rumors, he thought to himself bitterly.
What happened behind closed doors might be far more lurid than accounts fabricated to fill in the gaps.
“Then I am afraid I might have to disappoint you on that account, My Lady,” he told her, tamping down the venom that threatened to seep into every word. “My life is about as dull as any other vapid gentleman’s.”
That should have been enough to put a halt to any impressionable young lady’s inquisitiveness. Unfortunately, Philip belatedly realized that Selina wasnotjust any impressionable young lady, and any attempt on his behalf to dissuade her from her path would only result in her more assiduous pursuit.
They came to a halt outside the orangery. Sometime during their conversation, his grandmother and Lizzy had fallen behind until they were out of sight and earshot.
Ha! Chaperone us, indeed!
No doubt they simply wanted to give them some time to get better acquainted with each other—another romantic but foolish scheme.
“I beg to differ, Your Grace,” he heard Selina say softly. Even in the darkness, her eyes glowed like emeralds with a light of theirown, and now they seemed to peer into his very soul. “I noticed you went rather…quietwhen the subject of our fathers came up.”
Quiet?
Philip wanted to laugh.
Try cold. Freezing. Arctic.
There was no subject he hated more than that of his sire. No person—living or dead—whom he reviled more.
“There are questions that are best left unanswered, my dear,” he said quietly, his voice rimed with frosty contempt.
He took a step toward her and watched as her eyes widened. Was it from fear?
Good. Fear would keep her from the very things that should never see the light.
He moved closer. Intimidation should win over foolhardy curiosity.
But Selina stood still, holding her ground, her chin raised in defiance like a soldier making his last stand.
He had seen such men on the battlefield before. It never ended well for them either.
“I do not owe you any explanations,” he told her harshly. “About myself or my father or the devil himself. Whatever idealistic notions you have conceived, I suggest you banish them right now. It is your same recklessness that I am now attempting to resolve in a way that benefitseveryoneinvolved.”
“Then you have my gratitude for trying to rescue me from my own folly,” she retorted, her spine as unyielding as tempered steel. “But if you think that you can stop me from searching for answers or silence me when I wish to speak up, then you have chosen the wrong person to marry,Your Grace.”
She hurled the title at him as if it were an insult. Perhaps to her, it was.
But instead of chagrin or fury, it was desire that raced through his veins. This proud woman standing before him toe to toe, matching his defiance with her own…
She was like a flower born of flame. Unrivaled by anything in existence.
And right now, she was so close that all he had to do was reach out and he would taste all that exquisite, unyielding glory. All he had to do was claim her mouth, satisfy them both, let this blaze burn so hot that it had no choice but to raze itself to nothing. Then, he might be able to think clearly again.
“Your Grace…”
Her warm breath tickled the back of his hand as he reached for her face, setting his nerves on fire. His fingertips—calloused and hardened from years on the battlefield—met smooth skin. His very being seemed to focus on one thing alone.
Her.
He curved his shoulders as if to shield her from all distraction, his other hand finding the curve of her waist. Such a narrow waist. He could probably fit both hands around it with a little room to spare.
