Page 50 of Trapped with the Beastly Duke

“My mother is the same.” Rose sighed. “She is perfectly charming and can read a room as easily as a book. She always seems to know just what to say, what to do. And she has tried so hard to pass this knowledge on to me and my sisters.”

Alexander leaned back, propping himself against the corner of her four-poster bed. “Your mother sounds like a very impressive woman. Though I cannot imagine it would be easy to live in the shadow of someone so competent.”

Rose shook her head. “I never felt as though I were living in her shadow. Just… well… The thing you must understand is that my mother was not born into nobility.”

Alexander tilted his head. “Oh?”

“My grandfather was a wealthy merchant. Mother said he was the kind of man who could sell you anything in the world, and she was raised to do just the same.” Rose smiled wryly. “All without you realizing that is what she was doing.”

Alexander nodded thoughtfully. “The night we met, I think I heard you say something about her being a merchant’s daughter. At least I assume it was your voice I heard in the maze.”

Rose’s cheeks flushed so deeply that she was sure he would feel her embarrassment.

If the ground would open up and swallow me whole, I would be most grateful.

“I had hoped you did not hear much of my outburst.”

“I did not hear all of it. I tried to avoid listening, but you were quite… impassioned, and your voice does carry when you are angry.” Alexander smiled. “As I well know.”

Is it possible to die of embarrassment?

“Well, perhaps you should make me less angry, then,” Rose quipped, attempting to hide her feelings.

“I should like to avoid making you angry,” Alexander agreed. “Although I do rather like it when you stand your ground. There is something endearing about it.”

“You find being shouted at endearing?” Rose gaped. “Did I hit you so hard that you have taken leave of your senses?”

Alexander laughed, the sound deep and rich. It rolled through the room and sent tiny shivers through her body.

He has the most wonderful laugh.

“It is not that I find being shouted at endearing.” Alexander smiled. “It is the fact that you, who barely comes up to my chest, will stand your ground and ask for what you want. Yet, despite your small stature, you strode up to me and told me that I could not leave.”

“Well, you were being most unreasonable. It was like dealing with an ox,” Rose scoffed.

“You are calling me an ox?” Alexander’s eyes widened in amusement.

“You are quite stubborn when you wish to be.” Rose paused. “Though if I were to compare you to an animal, it would not be an ox.”

“Oh? What would it be?” Alexander leaned forward.

Rose took him in. His broad shoulders, the sharp lines on his face, the power in his movement. Yet, there was also gentleness. A kind of grace that was easy to miss beneath all that muscle.

There is a wildness, and such capacity for silliness when you see beneath the mask.

“A bear.” Rose nodded once.

“A bear?” Alexander frowned.

“Yes. I think if you were an animal, you would be a bear.” Rose smiled. “Strong, powerful, but amusing as well. Enjoys his own company.”

“I am not sure whether to be flattered or insulted.” Alexander looked thoughtful. “Though, I do not feel I would mind being a bear.”

“And what animal would I be?” Rose tilted her head.

Alexander stroked his chin thoughtfully, shifting on the bed as he did so, his thigh resting against her shin. His warmth was comforting, even through the bedclothes. “I think you would be a falcon.”

“A falcon?” Rose crossed her arms across her chest. “Why a falcon?”