“How so?” he asked, equally as confused.
“To the world, you are the duke. You are cold, responsible, and regimented. But then, at times, when we are alone, I see hints of another man. One who knows how to enjoy life, finds the moments of fun, lets his guard down, and enjoys a flirtation or takes the time to solve a puzzle. But whenever I see that side of you, you quickly hide it once more. Why?”
His heart seemed to pause as he took in what she said. He knew she was right, and yet, it hurt to be reminded of how he hid that side of himself — his true self.
“I cannot be that man anymore.”
“Why not?”
“Because that man isn’t a duke,” he said, unable to hide the bitterness in his tone. “That man is Asher, the second son. But that’s not who I am anymore.”
“Why can you not be both?” she asked, looking thoroughly confused.
“The second son can be selfish and make choices in his own best interests, while the duke is responsible for so many more people than himself,” he said. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Then help me understand,” she said simply, not taking any offense.
She was right. He couldn’t help but take another step toward her until their toes were touching. He was drawn to her, so much more than he should be, but he couldn’t seem to keep himself away. The more time he spent with her, the harder it was becoming.
And being so close to her, her scent surrounding him, the depths of her eyes drowning him, he forgot why he had to keep his distance, why he couldn’t afford to have her so close.
He reached out, his hands cupping her elbows, and when she didn’t pull away, he lowered his head so that they were just a breath away from one another. He paused, waiting for her to pull back, to tell him that this couldn’t be, but she only lifted her chin, her eyes telling him what she didn’t with her words — that she had clarity, that this was her choice as much as his.
And so, he took what she had to offer.
His hand cradled the back of her head, pulling her up toward him. Her hair was soft, as was her mouth beneath his. Her hands curled into the front of his jacket, holding onto him, keeping her anchored.
The kiss started light, delicate, as his other hand came to where her shoulder met her neck, as he craved a touch of her skin. She shivered when he drew his thumb over her, back and forth, and he couldn’t help but need more.
He knew he’d likely rue it later when her hair needed fixing, but he tangled his fingers into those soft strands so that he could tilt her head back for better access to her mouth.
He tested her to see if she was ready, sliding his tongue over her lips, and when she opened to him, he tasted her, need rolling through him.
When his tongue swept over hers and a small moan escaped her into his mouth, his every nerve ending came alive, attuned to her, his desire ratcheting up a level until the need throbbed throughout his body.
One of her hands slid over his chest, pressing against it, and he was enveloped in that fresh floral scent of her.
He finally lifted his head, his breath coming hard as he stared down at those pink, swollen lips, needing more and yet uncertain if he could stop at just this.
“Asher, are you in there?” came a call from the door, and Evelyn bit her lip at his mother’s voice, but he only shook his head at her before placing a finger against her mouth to silence her. Eventually, footsteps retreated, and he slid his finger down, letting it rub against her lips before moving it away.
“Are you still hiding?” she whispered.
“That depends,” he said, no longer thinking of anything but her. She was his wife. Should he not enjoy his wife? Especially if they had both vowed not to take another. He could do so without tying emotion to it. Couldn’t he?
“On what?” He was pleased to see that she was as breathy as he was.
“On whether or not you want to stay.”
“It’s mid-afternoon.”
“So it is.”
“Do you not have anywhere else to be?”
“It is Saturday. I have it to myself, as much as I choose it to be.”
Her eyes searched his, no hesitancy there, but rather interest.
