Page 24 of A Duke Reformed (Icy Dukes #3)

A short laugh escaped from her lips, and almost in the same moment, she felt the shift inside her, the subtle tug in her chest. Slowly, so slowly, she realized something she hadn't wanted to admit. She knew Solomon was handsome. She had always known that.

But now... for the first time, she realized she was starting to find him attractive. She was getting drawn to him. Charmed by him.

Emma swallowed and lowered her head. Thankfully, she had caught it in time. There was still ample time to pull herself back, to put up her walls.

As the music began to slow, the dance nearing its end, Emma felt a tightening in her chest. She could hear the orchestra's final notes drifting through the air, but they felt distant, as though they were coming from another world entirely.

Solomon let go of her and bowed, but she could still feel the lingering warmth of Solomon's touch on her waist.

Emma, concentrate. You're not too far gone.

It was so easy to be swept up in the moment, in the way he made her feel seen, heard, understood.

But she had to remind herself that it was dangerous.

Too dangerous. Emotions like that could make her impulsive, just like her father.

She had seen the consequences of that first-hand.

She didn't need love. She needed convenience.

And Solomon... well, he had made it clear he wasn't interested in marriage. He had his own path to take. He was a man of business. There was certainly no future there. All she was doing was setting herself up to get hurt.

But she was smarter than that. There was no way she would fall in love with a man like him.

"Have you ever wondered what it might be like to kiss a woman who always has so very much to say?"

Solomon's words hung in the air like a heavy mist, and Andrew's face went from confusion to pure astonishment in the span of a heartbeat.

The words had been sitting on the tip of his tongue ever since his discussion with Emma at the park.

He had found himself staring at her lips for far too long.

And even now, during, and after their first dance, he couldn't seem to shake the thought.

Andrew's hand, which had been holding a glass of champagne to his lips, faltered as he tried to swallow, but it all went terribly wrong. He choked on his drink, spluttering as the champagne spilled out of the glass and onto his sleeve.

"By God, Solomon!" Andrew gasped, wiping his mouth hastily with his other hand. His face turned a shade of red that wasn't entirely from the drink. "That's..." He cleared his throat again, still fumbling for words. "That's not a conversation I'm having with you."

Solomon sighed deeply, leaning back against the corner of the room, his arms crossed loosely as he watched Andrew recover from the near-disaster with the drink.

The words he'd spoken felt like a slip of the tongue, something he didn't intend to let out.

He didn't even know why he'd said it. Emma had been plaguing his thoughts for days now, and he was caught in a strange whirlwind of confusion.

His mind was so tangled, he couldn't untangle it no matter how much he tried.

"Sorry," Solomon whispered, rubbing his temple, feeling a strange weight settle over him.

Andrew, still visibly flustered, shook his head with a disbelieving grin. "Is it Emma?" he asked. "Is Emma the reason you are imagining... things?"

"No," he said before thinking. "Yes," he corrected himself, after giving it a second thought. "I don't know what it is. But lately, I think about her a lot, and I don't think it's ideal."

Andrew crossed his arms. "Solomon, when was the last time you courted someone? I know we are business partners and we rarely talk about our personal lives, but I'm curious."

Solomon paused, taken off guard by the sudden turn in the conversation. He leaned back against the wall, looking at Andrew with a slight chuckle. "I don't think I want to answer that."

"Answer the question, Solomon Miller. You're the one that made this personal. Not me," Andrew said.

Solomon shifted uncomfortably, his gaze briefly flicking toward Emma and back at Andrew. "I haven't courted anyone, Andrew," he admitted.

"Ever?"

"Ever," he answered. "I am not interested in that. Romance was never part of the plan. It still isn't. For personal reasons."

Andrew's eyes narrowed slightly, as if he was trying to read between the lines of Solomon's statement. "Do you think you have feelings for Miss Lockhart? Because if you do, I can speak to my wife. She is–"

"No. Heavens no," Solomon answered. "Emma and I are... very different." Solomon exhaled through his nose, rubbing the back of his neck, trying to avoid Andrew's prying gaze.

"Your Grace, you just asked me an absurd question that almost sent me to an early grave," Andrew said. "I almost choked on my drink."

"Don't exaggerate," Solomon said. "I merely asked a question."

"Clearly, you feel something you are not willing to admit," Andrew said to him.

"Perhaps," Solomon said and turned to search for Emma in the crowd. "But I am a strong-willed man, my friend. Feelings don't affect me. I'm merely curious, that is all. But you don't have to worry. I won't do anything ridiculous."

Andrew opened his mouth, clearly about to say something, but Solomon quickly cut him off with a change of subject. "By the way, do you happen to know any Lord Pearlton?"

Andrew blinked in surprise, his curiosity piqued. "Lord Pearlton? What do you want with him?" he asked, his tone shifting.

"You know who he is?"

Andrew nodded. "He's an Earl. I don't think you have met him, but I can introduce you to him. The man tends to talk a lot, so I generally avoid conversations with him."

Solomon glanced back at him, his expression unreadable. "I would like to have a word with him," he said coolly, not offering any further explanation. He could feel Andrew's gaze lingering on him, but he didn't meet it. Instead, he focused on scanning the room, instinctively looking for Emma.

"I'm afraid to ask why," Andrew pressed.

"You don't need to know," Solomon answered. "It's... personal."

Andrew's eyebrows furrowed, but he didn't press further, sensing that Solomon wasn't about to divulge anything more. "All right then. But it's one thing to be curious about a man, but if you're going to confront him..."

Andrew's words faded into the background as something else piqued Solomon's interest. Across the room, he spotted Emma again, but this time, she was standing with a man he didn't recognize.

She was laughing at something he'd said, her posture was relaxed.

.. her smile wide and genuine. She never smiled at him like that and for whatever reason, the knot in Solomon's stomach tightened.

"You're staring at Emma," Andrew noted. "Are you truly still going to deny–"

"I'm not staring, I'm just looking," Solomon tried to defend himself.

"That's the same thing. You do know how awkward it would be if she caught you?"

Solomon inhaled sharply, seeing sense in Andrew's remark.

He was being ridiculous and he had to reminded himself.

Emma wasn't his, and if she was interested in someone else, that was her business.

It didn't matter that there was a small flare of jealousy that ignited in him.

It had to be something else. Certainly not jealousy.

Yet, as his eyes flickered back to the man with her, he noticed something that made his pulse quicken.

The man, who was laughing and still leaning a bit too close to Emma was now writing something on her dance card.

Solomon's gaze snapped to the card in her hand, and a wave of irritation washed over him.

He knew it was irrational, but seeing that gesture, so intimate in its own way, felt like a physical blow to him.

His jaw tightened involuntarily, his fingers twitching at his sides and he couldn't bear it.

There was no sane reason as to why it bothered him, but the surge of protectiveness that overtook him made him move before he could stop himself.

Without a second thought, he started making his way across the room towards her. Andrew seemed to have called out to him, but he didn't stop. His steps were quick, and with every move he took, there was a voice in his screaming that it was a bad idea.

Emma looked up, her eyes meeting his for in an instant and she looked almost...startled to see him again. She quickly composed herself, but Solomon saw it, the shift in her demeanor.

Before she could speak, before she could say anything, Solomon blurted, "I think it's my turn to write on that card, Miss Lockhart."

Solomon stood for a moment, watching Emma's fingers tremble slightly as she held her dance card.

Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to protest, but he was already leaning closer, taking the card from her hands.

His fingers brushed hers, sending an unexpected jolt through him that he consciously chose to ignore.

The room seemed to fade into a blur as he reached for the pen, and in a smooth motion, he wrote his name on her card, erasing the other gentleman's name without even looking at it.

There was no hesitation in the action. No second thoughts.

Just the strange satisfaction of seeing his name where it belonged.

Emma gasped at his action. "Your Grace!"

Solomon's eyes didn't leave the card as he finished writing his name.

He could feel her gaze on him, could almost sense the disbelief in her voice, but he did not flinch.

As he placed the pen back down, his eyes briefly met Emma's, the shock in her gaze mirrored in the way her hand subtly tightened around the edge of the card.

He gave her a small, almost teasing smile before turning his attention to the gentleman who had been talking to Emma.

The man had been watching, and now he stood frozen, clearly taken aback by Solomon's actions.

Solomon just watched him, waiting for him to say something.

To do something. But instead, the man's face paled slightly, eyes darting nervously from Solomon to Emma, as if trying to gauge the situation.

After a long, tense moment, the gentleman simply nodded and took a step back. His shoulders stiffened, and he quickly excused himself, retreating into the crowd without a single word.

Solomon's eyes followed him for a moment, watching as he hurried away.

It was the first time he had done something like that and it felt satisfying.

When the gentleman was finally gone, he turned his attention back to Emma, but as soon as their eyes met, he saw it.

The fire. Her cheeks flushed, not with excitement, but with a simmering anger.

Her jaw was clenched, her eyes narrowed in disbelief.

She took a sharp breath before speaking. "Need I remind you how entirely inappropriate that was, or have you learned nothing from our lessons, Your Grace?"

In that moment, Solomon felt a jolt of satisfaction course through him. Emma was not one to get agitated or flustered and seeing how he had singlehandedly caused the sharpness in her gaze gave him a sense of accomplishment that he hadn't expected.

With a casual smirk, he leaned in slightly. "That's why our lessons are so necessary, Ducky. I keep forgetting these things."

Still, he had no excuse for his disruption and he had to come up with a good explanation, and he had to do it fast.