Page 16

Another roar of thunder rumbled through the air, and Georgiana stiffened, burying her face in his chest. The fear had gripped hersince childhood, an irrational terror she had never managed to shake.

She shivered violently, but Robert remained patient, holding her as if he had all the time in the world.

His tenderness only deepened her mortification. Grateful though she was, the vulnerability of the moment made her acutely aware of how tightly she clung to him.

She finally pulled back, meeting his steady gaze.

“We should… perhaps relight the lamp,” she suggested quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, his expression calm and assuring.

“Sit here by the fire,” he said, guiding her to the stone hearth.

He lowered her gently to the warm ledge, his touch firm yet careful, before moving to retrieve the lamp.

Georgiana’s gaze followed him as he crossed the room, his body an arresting display of masculine grace.

The play of muscle beneath the taut skin of his back was impossible to ignore, every movement fluid yet powerful. She bit her lip, helpless against the pull of her own curiosity.

He picked up the lamp, snapping a splinter from one of the logs with his bare hands. The raw strength in that simple act sent a shiver through her that had nothing to do with the storm. Plunging the splinter into the fire, he kindled a small flame and used it to relight the lamp.

The room brightened once more, and Georgiana exhaled slowly, grateful for the reprieve from the shadows.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice soft with relief.

To her surprise, Robert did not return to his own bed. Instead, he joined her on the hearth, his movements casual but deliberate. The flickering firelight danced across his skin, illuminating every ridge and contour of his sculpted torso.

Her eyes roamed of their own accord, tracing the broad line of his shoulders, the defined planes of his chest, and the way his abdomen tapered into lean, powerful hips. His muscular thighs flexed as he sat down beside her, drawing her gaze lower until she realized she was staring.

Heat flooded her face as she quickly looked away, but the image of him—golden and unashamed—was seared into her mind.

He smirked, as though he could sense the direction of her thoughts. “Better now?” he asked, his voice laced with teasing amusement.

Georgiana swallowed hard, her pulse fluttering.

“Yes. Much better,” she managed.

She was not entirely sure whether she meant the light—or the dangerously distracting man beside her.

“Will you not put onsomeclothes?” she asked. “After all, even if we are married, we are not… intimate.”

He turned to look at her. “Indeed. But… perhaps we could change that.”

“Is that what you want?”

“Is it not whatyouwant?”

Their gazes caught and held, each challenging the other, each waiting for the other to break away first.

Robert’s eyes shifted downward to her parted lips. Georgiana swallowed nervously, blinking in confusion as her heartbeat rapidly increased and her breaths came in shallow gasps.

Suddenly, he was leaning in towards her, his eyes still on her mouth. She leaned back and away from him.

He froze in place and again met her eyes.

“Why did you marry me, Duchess?” Robert asked.

Georgiana cocked an eyebrow, caught off guard by the question in the wake of their aborted kiss. “My parents told me to.”