Page 28 of Her Heartless Duke

“A respite?”

Isaac nodded. “The world in itself is full of misery and suffering. I have seen how humans could be so cruel to one another that I now see death as an old friend offering a permanent haven from the brutality of this world.”

“I suppose I have never looked at it in that way,” she said softly. “Some of us fear death, and some—like you, Your Grace—welcome it. But are we not rather fortunate to have met while we are still alive?”

He smiled at her. “That we are.”

He did not know how long he had been holding her hand as they talked. He only knew how it seemed to perfectly fit in his, as if he had always been meant to hold it as they talked—about life and death and all the other mundane things in between.

He had never been able to reveal as much of himself as he had to Olivia and he gathered that she had never been as forthright about her fears with anybody else. It filled him with a keen sense of pride that she would trust him with such a vulnerable side to her.

“Dance with me, Lady Olivia,” he urged her softly, his thumb running over her knuckles gently. “Let me dispel your fear of death.”

She nodded softly, allowing him to gently help her up and lead her to the dance floor again. There was no music this time, but they swayed together to a melody that seemed to flow naturally between them.

“Do you still fear death when we dance together?” he asked her.

She shook her head. “When we dance, I… tend to forget all else.”

Her admission came out in a small voice, as if she could not believe she was actually saying it out loud. But Isaac had an admission of his own, too.

“Me too,” he murmured.

Dancing with her quieted all the clamor in his mind. Holding her in his arms like this, he could almost forget the roar of canons and gunfire, the groans of dying men. Like the war that ravaged his very being was a whole other lifetime ago and not the misery he was forced to contend with, with every breath he took.

When he looked down, he found himself drowning in the serenity of her endlessly blue gaze. With a shuddering breath, he carefully tilted her chin, watching her soft lips part slightly, as if to beckon him to taste their ripeness.

This is wrong!Isaac’s mind warned him.I should not be thinking of kissing her like this…

But as he leaned in, his lips touching hers ever so gently, he felt a burst of something so profound that every thought, every protestation—it all disintegrated into sheer nothingness.

All that was left was her.Olivia.

All that mattered was her.

It was not the first time Isaac surrendered to madness and by all logic,thisshould have qualified as insanity.

Yet, it felt nothing like it.

Instead, it felt like for the first time in a long while, everything was all right with the world.

CHAPTERTWELVE

She had a feeling that Isaac Anderleigh, the Duke of Langley, was going to be trouble. She had warned Fiona as much.

Still, Olivia could not help but be drawn to him.

To fight her growing attraction was like trying to swim away from a whirlpool—it was an exercise in futility.

She knew it was wrong. Her very upbringing rebelled against the way his lips pressed against hers, the way his hands spanned across her curves as if he intended to map them out by mere touch. Yet, her own body could not resist pressing herself against him, seeking more of the samewrongness.

Craving more of it.

As her eyes fluttered close, she felt his lips trail hotly from her lips to her jawline, down to her neck. She let out a soft whimper as her fingers dug into his broad shoulders, the fabric bunching up into her palms.

“This ismadness,” he rasped against the hollow of her throat.

Vaguely, Olivia could agree on the same thing, even as she tilted her head back, allowing him even greater access.