“My guests will be arriving shortly.” He took a step into her. And then another. Standing over her, his right hand moved to her waist, gripping her tight. “I expect you to look the part.”
“I will,” she breathed, looking up at him, wanting him to see in her eyes exactly what was on her mind. “And thank you for the gown.”
“And thank you,” he said.
“What for?”
His smirk grew. His eyes flashed. And then, without another word, he pulled her forward, their bodies pressed together, and his lips found her mouth so that he devoured her as if he was a starved animal in the wild, and she was his prey.
That kiss ignited something deep inside of Octavia. The doubt that had lain dormant all day, the questions that she had fought against, and the lust that she had tried to ignore and forget and push down because such feelings were dangerous… they exploded like a powder keg, rising up her body, wrapping her completely so that she burned from head to foot.
Their lips pressed together. Their mouths opened, and their tongues danced. The Duke’s hand squeezed her waist, he groaned and he growled as he attacked her, and she let forth awhimper that told him how she wanted this… and how she was his completely.
The sound of footsteps coming down the hallway broke them apart.
The Duke released her quickly and took a step back. She gasped and gulped for air, her chest tightening as if her heart had stopped its beating.
“Your Grace!” a footman appeared in the doorway. “I am so sorry to disturb you, but your guests… they will be arriving shortly.”
“Thank you,” the Duke said without turning around. He held his gaze on Octavia, just for a moment, just long enough to let her know his thoughts. “I will be down shortly.”
“Your Grace.” The footman bowed and ducked from the room.
“That gown,” the Duke said. “I expect to see you in it shortly. Just as I expect you to look the part tonight, Miss Finch.”
“I will,” she said. “I promise.”
“A promise…” He chuckled. “I would hate for you to break it.”
“I never would.”
He held her stare a moment longer. She did the same. The world around them vanished; nothing mattered but the Duke and the look in his eyes, and Octavia felt his hunger and his desire as if his lips covered her body.
He then broke the stare, turned, and strode from the room without looking back.
Once he was gone, Octavia turned back and looked upon the down a second time. This time, there was no hesitation or sense of uncertainty. She reached forward, scooped the gown into her arms, and beamed as she held it against her body so that it flowed like water down a river.
I cannot believe he has done this…
Her heart still raced from their kiss. Her body still shivered. And her lips tingled as if they were on fire. Last night was real; it had meant something to the Duke, and it was sure to happen again before the night was over. Octavia would make sure of it.
Chapter Seventeen
“I’m bored,” Aaron complained as he stabbed at his empty plate with his knife.
“Master Aaron, behave yourself,” Octavia told the boy. “Your father is watching.”
“No, he isn’t.” Aaron scrunched his face into a tight ball. “He isn’t paying attention at all.”
“That is not true.”
“It is,” Aaron said. “He does not even care that I am here.”
Octavia wanted to tell Aaron how wrong he was. She wished to explain that his father was happy that he was here, that his goal tonight was to show his son off to his friends, to make it known that he was every bit his son and slowly growing into a man whom he might one day be proud to call his own.
But is that a lie? I do not think it is… even if it is a hard truth to swallow.
Sadly, the events of the evening threw this claim into question.