David’s expression softened, his voice lowering. “She’s not wrong, you know. Pamela’s sharp; she’s bound to sense something. But you’re still her father in every way that matters. Why not let your wife in? She seems determined to help.”
Raph’s eyes darkened, his thoughts churning as he considered his friend’s suggestion. “Let her in? Expose the truth of Pamela’s parentage? It would destroy everything I’ve done to keep her safe.”
“You will never know if you don’t try.”
“Camelia would not understand,” he retorted, his tone clipped. “She thinks the truth will fix everything, but some secrets are better left buried. Pamela’s feelings and well-being are my priority, always.”
Before David could reply, a sultry voice interrupted them.
“Well, well, Your Grace. You look positively wound up,” Wendy purred, gliding to their table, her crimson gown flowing around her and taking up the entire space.
She had once stirred Raph’s interest, but now her presence felt hollow as she sat next to him.
“Is married life not suiting you, my darling Duke? Or is your new Duchess keeping you on too tight a leash?”
Raph’s jaw clenched, his irritation flaring. “My marriage is none of your concern, Wendy,” he replied coldly.
She laughed, undeterred, leaning closer and touching his arm. “Oh, come now, Raph. You’re as tense as a bowstring. A man like you needs… release. Why not let me help, like old times? Your Duchess need never know.”
David cleared his throat loudly to remind them of his presence. Raph glanced at him and noticed his raised eyebrow. The cad was struggling to stifle a grin.
“Careful, Wendy. His Grace is a married man now. Though I must say he does look like he hasn’t had a proper night in weeks?—”
Raph shot him a warning look.
No other woman stirs me as Camelia does.
His thoughts drifted to Camelia’s soft, moist folds and the way she surrendered to his punishment.
“Wendy,” he said curtly. “Find another man. Because I’m not interested.”
Wendy pouted, her fingers trailing along his arm. “Your Duchess must be quite the vixen to keep you so… preoccupied. Or is she withholding her charms, leaving you all frustrated?”
Raph’s hand grabbed her wrists and tightened around them, his patience fraying. “Speak of my wife again, and you’ll regret it.”
Wendy’s nothing compared to her.
Wendy raised her free hand in mock surrender. “My, my, so protective. I’ll leave you to your brooding, Your Grace. But if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
Raph let go of her wrist.
She slid off the seat inelegantly and sauntered off after blowing a kiss in their direction.
David leaned towards him with a coy look. “She’s something!” He raised his eyebrows, and Raph nodded. “But she’s got a point, Raph. You’re wound tighter than ever. Is it just Pamela, or is your Duchess truly driving you insane?”
Raph took a long sip; the brandy burned down his throat.
How do I tell him that Camelia is driving me mad, but not in the way he imagines? Her eyes, her voice, the way she challenges me at every turn. And I’m enjoying every second of it.
“Both,” he admitted roughly. “Camelia’s… relentless. She’s in my head, David, pushing me to open doors I’ve kept locked for years. And Pamela… she’s slipping away, and I don’t know how to stop it.”
David’s grin faded, his tone turning serious. “Then maybe it’s time to let Camelia help. She’s not your enemy, Raph. She’s your wife. And from what you’ve said, she’s got a heart big enough to handle Pamela’s pain and yours.”
“That’s a risk I cannot take,” Raph said firmly. “Pamela’s safety comes first. Camelia will follow my rules, or she’ll learn the consequences.”
David raised an eyebrow and responded dryly, “Sounds like you’re enjoying teaching her a bit too much, old friend.”
Raph’s lips twitched, a reluctant spark of amusement breaking through. “She’s a challenge, I’ll give her that. Defiant, bold. Every time I think I’ve got her under control, she turns the tables on me.”
