He had married Camelia for Pamela’s sake. To give her a mother and a guide, but he hadn’t expected Camelia’s fire to burn so brightly, threatening to unravel the carefully constructed world he had built.
He sank into a chair, running a hand through his long hair.
“Damn her,” he muttered to himself. “She’s too much, too bold, too… tempting.”
And yet he craved every challenge she threw at him.
His thoughts drifted to Pamela’s cold words to Camelia.
Perhaps Camelia’s method might work.
Raph rose in frustration, pacing again, his boots thudding softly on the polished floor.
“I should summon her back,” he said aloud, then shook his head. “No. She needs to cool off, so do I.”
Her anger only made her more alluring, and he would end up binding her again just to see her yield.
He stopped himself, clenching his fists at his sides.
Camelia will learn to follow my rules, or I’ll teach her… slowly and thoroughly.
He moved to the decanter on the sideboard and poured himself a measure of brandy.
“She thinks she can defy me,” he murmured, swirling the liquid. “But she’ll learn her place as my Duchess.”
He took a sip, and the burn grounded him.
His mind flickered to the portrait of his sister in the hall, the one Camelia had noticed. The memory of his sister’s death tightened his chest.
He wouldn’t let Camelia dig into that wound. Not now, not ever, becausesome secrets had to stay buried.
He set the glass down on his desk and crossed to the door, where he paused and imagined Camelia, her anger still smoldering. He pictured her pacing and cursing him while her body still ached from their encounter.
Raph fought the urge to find her and finish what they had started.
He turned away, heading for his study instead. As he settled at his desk, he began drawing up a new schedule, his quill scratching across the paper.
“For Pamela’s sake, I’ll keep her at arm’s length…”
For now.
CHAPTER 17
“That scowl of yours can freeze this teacup,” Camelia teased the Duke from across the breakfast table.
“Not today, Camelia.” His tone was clipped.
“I’m just pointing out that no one likes to see a thundercloud so early in the morning.” She took a sip before carefully placing the teacup on the saucer.
Camelia only dared to look at the Duke with nothing delicate in her hands. After he had tied her up, she was never sure what he would do next. But he made no attempt to see her, and she had not found herself alone with him since then.
Her new duties as the Duchess were not easy, but they kept her busy and distracted from her loneliness in Brentmere.
“What has set you off, Your Grace?” Camelia continued to address him, even though his piercing gaze made her hands shake.
The Duke glanced at Pamela, who was picking at her toast. Her hazel eyes darted nervously to him and back to her half-eaten breakfast.
He slammed his coffee cup down. The porcelain rattled dangerously, and Camelia was surprised that it hadn’t shattered into a million pieces under his strength.
