Page 51 of A Bride for the Devilish Duke

“I do not think that I can be entirely blamed for my assertion,” Damien called after her, “we have both given into our... primal instincts before now.”

Emma whirled on him, and he stopped short but did not look away.

“Are you trying to make yourself reprehensible to me? To drive me away perhaps?” she demanded.

“It seems to be you that is attempting to start a battle between us,” Damien rapped back.

Emma felt aggrieved at this.

“I have behaved impeccably throughout our acquaintanceship.”

“Except for our time atop the hill at Nettleden,” Damien pointed out.

Emma felt her face flush and was glad in some way that his face did the same. It made his eyes shine brightly and was very attractive. She tried to control her breathing, aware that she was breathless and that her heart was racing. She told herself that it was anger but the sight of the same reaction in him gave her a thrill that had nothing to do with animosity.

“Do you judge?” she demanded.

“I judge both of us. One cannot dance alone, as it were,” Damien replied.

“And how do you judge us both? As feral animals incapable of controlling our baser instincts?”

“We are all animals. And I used the word primal, rather than baser,” he corrected.

He had caught up now and stood, towering over Emma. If he had a mind to, he could cast her down onto the road and do as he would with her. There was no one else abroad and the only houses were distant. A scream might not even reach them.

“I used my words deliberately,” Emma pointed out.

“You regard our mutual attraction, for that is what drove us both to do what we did, asbase?” he asked.

“Yes, of course!” she shot back.

“And when you became aroused behind your bedroom door, knowing that I was equally as aroused on the other side? Was that base?”

His voice had dropped to a whisper, husky with desire.

All this time, he… heknew?

She wished he would look away, wanted desperately to escape the magnetic pull of his eyes. To escape the charisma of his body which seemed to sing to hers. A stray breeze stirred her auburn hair, casting it across her face. Damien's hand moved before hers, brushing it aside.

“I do not wish your face to be hidden from me,” he said in a voice made hoarse by...by... what?Lust?Desire? Could she inspire such profound emotions in a man?

“Iwish it hidden…” Emma whispered. “I wish the entirety of my body to be hidden. If I could be married in a shroud and never seen by you or anyone, then I would. It should make my life simpler.”

Damien frowned and reached up to stroke her cheek. She caught his hand before the contact, knowing that another touch wouldbreak her. Her base desire would take control and she would crave his body once more.

“Will you tell me the truth about your refusal to allow Madame Rousseau to measure you?” he asked.

“I saw her measure my sisters. It was an intimate exercise,” she answered.

“I have been measured for clothes, I can attest to that. I would not do it in public,” he assured.

“But I also have good reason to avoid... intimate touch.”

Damien frowned. “Madame Rousseau is a married woman and entirely respectable...”

“Not that!” Emma snapped in exasperation.

“Then what?” he asked, equally as frustrated.