Page 51 of The Duke's Rules Of Engagement
She went stiff. Thank God he’d said that. It had knocked sense right back into her head. It had also knocked the breath from her lungs.
Using the hand already gripping him, she shoved him back. “No.”
He blinked at her, wiping away the haze of lust that had sheened his gaze the moment before.
“Your Grace, I am here to find you a bride, not to…to…” She swallowed and shook her head, unable to find a word that fit. Or, rather, one she could bring herself to say aloud.
“Jo. I like you.”
She closed her eyes. “I like you, too. That’s the problem.”
“How?”
“I cannot ‘like’ you and do my job properly. I can’t separate the two adequately. If I have romantic feelings for you…it makes me…” She blew out a frustrated breath. “It feels wrong encouraging romantic feelings between you and someone else.”
His jaw dropped slightly as realization dawned. “You’re…jealous?”
She jerked her face away. “Please, Your Grace. I don’t wish to speak of it anymore. I just… I can’t do this.”
Holding her chin, he forced her to face him again. “Are you jealous?”
It appeared the question was genuine. True curiosity shone on his face.
“I don’t know if that’s the right word for it,” she said honestly.
“Then what is the right word?”
“I don’t know. What I do know is that if I develop a strong…‘liking’ for you, our relationship will end once you marry, and that will…that will hurt.”
He stood still. She pulled back from him and then moved to put the desk between them like a shield before facing him again.
“Am I correct? You wouldn’t stray on your wife, would you?” She sent up a quick prayer that he’d say, “Of course I would never do such a thing,” because it would break her heart if he ended up being one of those libertines who would tup anything in a skirt, whether he was married or not.
He gasped. “Of course not. I would never do such a thing,” he said, which, coming on the heels of her prayer, and in nearly the exact same words, jolted her. “What kind of a man do you think I am?”
“I don’t know,” she pushed out. “Because I don’t know what your intentions are with me.”
He stared at her, jaw ticking.
“I mean…did you mean to bed me, then discard me? I’m sorry, Your Grace, but I am worth more than that. I am not someone who will allow myself to be used like a—”
He was behind the desk in a single lunge, his hands gripping her waist. “No, Jo. No. That wasn’t my intent. I would never intentionally hurt you.”
Even now, the feel of his hands on her made her tremble with need.
“But that’s what would happen, don’t you see?” she whispered. “Whether it is your intention or not. You would make me ‘like’ you…maybe even more than that, and then you’d leave to marry your perfect duchess.”
He cringed.
She continued, “And my heart…it would be shattered.”
He closed his eyes.
“My heart is a valuable thing, Your Grace. At least it is to me. I cannot—Iwon’t—allow you to break it.”
His hands slipped from her waist. “I find your heart is valuable to me as well.”
The devastated look on his face gutted her, but she clenched her hands into fists and tried not to show it.
