That hardly seemed right.
Slowly, her tired brain flickered awake.
Memory rushed in behind.
Ice house.
Trapped.
Duke of Kendall.
Heaven help her.
She was curled around Kendall like anumpty-headedloonie.
His heart beat a steady rhythm under her ear and his arm snaked around her waist, snugging her close.
It felt . . .
Well, it felt safe. Kind. Gentle.
Words she would have never associated with the duke before this moment.
But then, the entirety of his reaction to their circumstance had been unexpected.
Yes, he had ranted a wee bit as gentlemen were wont to do. But once that had passed, he had offered her succor. Kendall had noticed her shivering and had showed compassion rather than disdain. He had wrapped his arm around her and held her body with . . . well . . .
Tenderness.
That was the only word to describe it.
Kendall held her as if she were the most precious thing. A possession to be cherished.
Allie insisted there was good within her twin. And for once, Isolde believed her.
Now, huddled against him, her head tucked into the hollow between his shoulder and chest, Isolde felt protected. Secure.
Like all would be well if only she could remain here, safe in the strength of his arms.
How odd.
Thathiswould be the embrace that brought comfort in a moment of trial.
Granted, it didn’t hurt that the man smelled divine—sandalwood and soap and something expensively masculine. Could Isolde ask Allie what cologne he wore?
His lungs lifted in deep, even breaths.
Isolde knew she should pull away. She was fully awake now and daylight had crept into the wee hallway.
But . . .
Just one minute more, she thought.
What harm was there in resting for a while longer? After all, it would be rude to awaken Kendall.
With that thought, she closed her eyes again.
The sound ofa key in the door lock jolted Isolde awake.
