His lips parted slightly, but then he snapped them shut, unsure of what to say. He clenched his jaw, straightening his spine.
His gaze flicked back to Aurelia. Ever since they had gotten married, so many things had changed. The biggest one was his resistance to the desire to claim her.
And now, the bitter truth was that he wanted heirs. He wanted nights of sinful heat. He wanted mornings with her tangled in his sheets, her skin bare and voice hoarse from moaning.
But above all, he wantedher. Aurelia.
And that truth terrified him more than anything.
She didn’t even look at him as she spoke with Lottie. And still, he was undone.
Fortunately, Lottie’s voice rang out, preventing him from crumbling further. “Papa!”
His breath caught in his throat when he caught the smile on her face. He wasn’t used to his daughter smiling widely at him. His entire body froze, as if bracing against something too large to process.
The little girl walked up to him, her curls bouncing around her face.
“Well,” he said, his voice choked with something dangerously close to wonder, “youdonotice me.”
He reached down to ruffle her hair with a gentleness that shocked even himself.
She giggled, sweet yet quiet. “Of course I do.”
He gave a faint smile and then turned to the trunk that had just been unloaded by the footman. He retrieved the small bundle within it—a muslin doll, its features painted with delicate care.
His fingers trembled, not from uncertainty but from the pressure behind every movement. He wanted to do it right. He also wanted to impress his daughter.
“For you,” he told her gruffly, offering the doll like it were something sacred.
Lottie gasped, as if he had placed a crown in her hands. Her fingers clutched the doll. Then, without warning, she launched herself at him, hugging him fiercely.
For a second, his arms hovered mid-air, unsure of what to do. Lottie had never initiated hugs. But then he slowly lowered his arms and enveloped her in a gentle embrace.
Emotion clogged his throat. He lowered his head in a bid to hide his face.
Aurelia watched them, her lips parted on a breath she had not known she had been holding. This man, this untouchable duke, was undone by a child’s hug.
She’d never seen him look more beautiful, more vulnerable. And it hurt her when he cleared his throat and slowly let go of the child, breaking the spell.
“See what Daddy got me.” Lottie turned back to Aurelia.
Aurelia looked at her husband shyly and said, “You did well.”
“Mother, you promised me presents, too!” Lottie exclaimed, as though suddenly remembering.
“And I always keep my promises,” Aurelia assured her. “But I will show you inside. Come along, it’s getting hot out here.”
Lottie nodded and reached for Aurelia’s hand. Together, they moved into the main hall, their footsteps and laughter blending perfectly.
Percival followed, but his eyes were fixed on his wife. On the graceful line of her neck, the sway of her hips beneath her skirts. On the way she moved, like she belonged in every room she entered. The way she smiled at his daughter like love was easy, like it didn’t have to be earned with blood and grief.
She was too much. Too radiant. Too real.
And he was starving for her.
Inside, Aurelia bent over a trunk and lifted a delicate gown. The fabric shimmered with soft floral patterns, embroidered in fine thread that glimmered in the chandelier’s light.
Lottie gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “This is so pretty.”
