Page 110
Story: The Duke's Bartered Mistress
Cared for her.
He’d been gruff and angry, but he hadn’t dismissed her as a person. He’d seen her. He’d allowed her to choose books and had listened to her opinions. He’d asked her thoughts, he’d defended her. He’d cuddled with her and brought her chocolates when she was in pain.
He was the better she deserved.
Georgia knew she was barely breathing as she worked through this complex and painful realization.
She loved Demon, yes, but…she deserved him, as well.
Oh.
Oh, my.
The thought was as delicate as the first new bud pushing its way out of the snow…but just the same, it blossomed and grew in Georgia’s heart, the same color as his eyes.
Demon had used her, yes, but she’d offered herself to be used. Her father’s words about Uncle William didn’t make sense, though; why would Demon control Father’s debt in order to get to Uncle William? The man wasn’t even in England any longer!
A hand closed around hers.
A rough hand, callused far more than a baron’s should be. A hand which had held her, touched her, knew her body in ways she herself didn’t.
Georgia didn’t have to guess.
A sense of calm flowed up her arm and into her chest. She turned and exhaled.
Demon.
He was wearing his kilt. He’d worn a kilt to a formal ball, the ball introducing him to Society. He wore it proudly, the same way he wore his scars.
He wasn’t afraid.
And neither was she.
“I need to speak to ye.” They were words she might’ve said, but they came from his lips.
Her own lips curled, despite the seriousness of the situation. “Hello, Demon.”
“Please, Georgia. Give me five minutes?”
She would give him her forever, if he wanted it.
Beside her, Felicity cleared her throat. “I do not think the pair of ye should be alone.”
She was slipping into her brogue, sure sign she was agitated, but Georgia couldn’t pull her gaze away from Demon to comfort her friend.
For his part, Demon held her gaze. “Well, it’s damned certain I’m no’ going to lay my heart out here in front of everyone. The library’s just behind us.” He jerked his head.
“Ye have not even been introduced, Your Grace!” blurted Felicity. “This is yer ball. Ye need to be formally announced and introduced and welcomed into Society!”
Demon’s gaze bore into Georgia’s. “I’m no’ ready. No’ yet. No’ without ye.”
You promised.
“Demon,” she breathed, uncertain if she was agreeing or objecting.
He seemed to think she objected. “Dinnae fash, they’ll no’ see us slip away.”
Well, that seemed highly unlikely, considering everyone was staring at them. She dragged her gaze away to flick it across the ballroom, where eighty-five percent of people were in fact watching. The orchestra started a lively little polka tune she’d never heard before, but it didn’t seem to help with the distraction.
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