What the Duke Wants(37)

“Hush now, little kitten. Retract those claws and cease your hissing.” Charles chuckled even as he noted her cheeks filled with a deepening reddish hue as he did so. “I’m not ashamed of you… however since our… conversation was more intimate than I was comfortable with in allowing for introductions, I admit my sense left me and I resorted to juvenile behavior.” He took a step towards her, unable to resist the furious flush of her countenance.

Carlotta sniffed indignantly, crossing her arms and then uncrossing them so she could tuck the stray strands of hair released from her proper style behind her dainty ears.

Her color faded into more of her natural rosy elegance and Charles relaxed, risking another step forward.

“I must ask you to stop, your grace.” She spoke softly, her eyes limpid pools of untapped passion that Charles very greedily wanted to explore.

But he obeyed and held his position.

“You… I’m not…” she began then hesitated, tucking more free strands of hair behind her ears. The gesture made her appear vulnerable and Charles felt a strange yet overwhelming desire to protect her from whatever caused her wariness.

Even if it meant protecting her from himself.

Strange irony, that.

“Yes?” he prodded, his voice gentle in comparison to the war waging within him. All he wanted to do was devour her, taste her addicting flavor once more… yet he would not. As much as he wanted, no, burned for her, he’d rather feel the flames lick his feet than cause her distress.

Lord knows he’d already caused enough.

And the day wasn’t even over yet.

Bloody Hell.

But it was more than that. He was thinking about her, concerned for her, putting aside himself and his own desires… for her. The idea stopped him short. Truly, he couldn’t remember ever feeling this way before.

Which wasn’t exactly complimentary.

But he disregarded that epiphany, reverting back to the first truth. For the first time Charles felt that he might actually, truly be falling in love.

Real love.

The kind where he would actually look forward to waking up beside that person for the rest of his life, rather than wanting to leave immediately after his lust was sated.

The kind where he would find the other person more attractive with silvery hair, and fine lines around her eyes from smiling too many times in his presence.

The kind that required a ring. Not simply a bed.

“Your grace?” Carlotta’s hand on his arm jolted him from his thoughts.

“Forgive me,” he whispered, his voice soft as he was still considering all he just uncovered within his own heart.

“There’s nothing to forgive…” She arched an eyebrow. “At least in the past few minutes.”

“I cannot think of anything today I’d ask forgiveness for,” he challenged back.


Her cheeks bloomed with rosy color. “Including when you asked me to hide?” She tilted her head slightly, her eyes dancing with the knowledge that she had bested him.

“Perhaps that… but only that.” He gave her his best smoldering gaze.

But her eyes didn’t dance with invitation as he had hoped. Rather they grew wary once more and she backed away, her arms crossing once again as if trying to give herself security.

Charles swallowed his impulse to kiss the worry from her expression; rather he relaxed on his back leg and waited.

“You cannot keep insisting on kissing me, your grace. There will be talk, there will be consequences and I will come out with the unfavorable end, to be sure.”

“Carlotta—” he began but hesitated as she lifted her gloved hand for him to wait.

“Your grace. We have already established that this—” She gestured between the two of them. “—is not wise. For pity’s sake, you’re a duke. I might simply be a governess but I’m not unaware of how your social circles work. While I’m assured that you are most certainly aware of how incompatible any type of relationship beyond employer and employee would be, I feel compelled to add…” She paused with a soft sigh, her eyes closing as if humbled beyond what she could bear. “…I’m not one to consider carte-blanche.”

Her eyes were still closed.

Charles heart sank lower than hell itself.

Was that what she thought?

Granted his reputation didn’t add any shine to his character, but he had hoped she saw beyond… but apparently, he was incorrect.

“I do not remember asking you to be my mistress,” Charles said, keeping his voice deceptively calm.

“I didn’t wish to give you the opportunity. Such a… humiliation I could not bear, not at your hand,” she whispered, her eyes opening and her expression lacerating through his heart like a jagged and rusty knife.

“The wards will be searching for you, Miss Carlotta. You best seek them out,” his tone was cold, cruel to his own ears. He resented himself the moment he spoke but it was done.

It was done.

Silently he opened the door, stepping back for her to take her leave. He willed his expression to remain neutral, fighting the deep emotion suffocating him, emotion he couldn’t name nor did he want to explore.

At least not at the moment.

“Very well.” She curtseyed and quit the room but not before he saw the sheen of tears well within her eyes.