“Who told you that?” Seth suddenly demanded.
“Does it matter?”
“Yes, they are trying to sabotage me. Now,who?”
Charlotte scoffed half-heartedly. “Sabotageyou?I met the girl coming out of this room. She did not seem very happy. Was your liaison sounsatisfactory?”
He rounded on her, causing her to falter a little. “She insisted on following me to this room when all I desired was some peace and quiet,” he retorted, “I sent her away without touching her. I hardly spared her a glance!”
“I wish I could believe you. She mentioned that another had captured your eye. Is she here? Is that why you are keeping the place so dark?”
Seth growled in his throat and strode away. Moments later, a lamp was lit, then a second. Charlotte could see the entire room now. A writing desk stood in one corner, papers strewn across it. A bed, perfectly made and undisturbed, was set against one wall. A chaise stood opposite with a table before it bearing an empty bottle of brandy and one glass. Seth turned and curled a supercilious brow at her.
“Then—then, who is the woman who has your attention?” she demanded, “If you would rather be with another, then I deserve to know. It would at least help explain your bizarre behaviour—"
“For Christ’s sake, woman, it isyou!”
CHAPTER 13
Seth reached for Charlotte’s mask, but she slipped just out of his grasp. He stilled—only for a breath—then surged forward, catching her by the waist and pulling her flush against him. Through the delicate veil of her mask, she met his gaze.
His emerald eyes bored into her own, eroding her will. His hands grazed up her sides, caressing and exploring in equal measure. His lips were inches from hers but separated by the feline facade.
“You do not mean it,” she whispered.
“I... I do,” he murmured, but falteringly.
Charlotte lifted the mask on her own. Her hand fell limply to her side, the disguise dangling from her fingers.
“Then why hesitate?” she pleaded. “Since I met you, I have seen nothing but contradictions. Our betrothal is arranged. Why?You agree to it, but push me away at every opportunity. Were the other betrothals arranged, too?”
He appeared anguished. She thought of the lost boy she had observed through the bookshelf at Hillcrest. Her heart broke for his sadness.
What is torturing him so? Does he not have a life that other men would kill for?
She ran her hand down the side of his face, pressing gently with her fingertips, touching and feeling him. She closed her eyes, picturing his face from the contours she felt. He turned his cheek into her touch as though craving more of it.
When she opened her eyes, he stood with his own tightly shut and an expression of pure rapture on his face. Her touch fell to his throat, savoring the feel of his smooth skin and the pulse of his heart against her fingertips.
“If only I could just enjoy this moment for what it is. If only I could just lose myself with you,” he sighed.
“And why can you not?”
She wanted the answer to be one that led him to abandon himself. She wanted the barrier to come down. She had brought herself to this place to confront him, thinking to have a battle. At the end of that battle, Charlotte had expected to be traveling firstto the Prescott Estate and then back to Yorkshire. The adventure would be over one way or the other.
Having arrived here, though, she felt as though she had once again fallen into the Duke of Bellmonte’s magnetism.
Their lips met, finally, after what seemed an eternity of waiting. His embrace tightened, drawing her powerfully against his masculine frame, holding her. That embrace would keep her safe against a horde. Against an army. Nothing could pierce the sanctity of those arms, of that brave heart.
Charlotte forgot herself and her sister. She forgot her task, to impersonate Amelia. She lost herself in the kiss. The glorious kiss. She was spinning through the air and did not know if it was pure sensation or if Seth had actually picked her up. The answer came when he sat back into the armchair with a thump, her upon his lap.
His lips nuzzled at her neck, biting and kissing in succession, never in the same place twice. She sighed, lifting her chin and exposing more of her throat to his mouth. She ran her fingers through his hair when she wanted his lips upon hers again, drawing his head down.
When their lips met, it was with a furious passion. She moaned, a sound drawn out of her instinctively. She whispered his name and heard her sister’s whispered back.
No,” she replied faintly, shaking her head.
“No?” Seth whispered, frowning. “To what? To this?”
