Page 30 of A Deal for the Duke’s Virgin

Daphne frowned, glancing first at the carriage and then back at the door, where Jonathan lingered, arms folded in obvious displeasure.

“I shall ride with you in the carriage,” she decided. “Make yourself comfortable while I explain to Edwin.”

Thalia trudged towards the carriage and hauled herself inside. Christian was already there. Somehow, she hadn’t expected that.

He sat in the corner, sharp gaze fixed on her. Clearing her throat, she settled down in the opposite corner.

“You had better sit beside me,” Christian remarked. “Daphne gets terribly nauseous if she faces the opposite direction of travel.”

Thalia bit her lip. “Oh.”

Obediently, she shifted to the opposite seat. That brought her far too close to him.

“I did not expect to see you here so soon,” she murmured, keeping a careful eye on the door. Part of her expected Jonathan to appear and drag her away.

Christian sniffed. “I told you I would be here. Why would you not expect it?”

He smelled of some spicy herb that she couldn’t quite place. It was not unpleasant, quite the opposite. Was it cologne?

“Yes, well, I should like to remind you that the purpose of this fake betrothal is to make sure my reputation is not ruined,” she stated coldly.

That isn’t the true purpose. But you cannot tell him the true purpose, can you?

Christian chuckled. “Then one should choose one’s fake betrothal more carefully.”

Thalia folded her arms. “You’re right. One should be more careful about whom they agree to help, too.”

She pointedly did not look at him, although his gaze burned into the side of her face. Heat spread, curling through her chest and plunging down into her gut. She shifted, not entirely sure what to do with the sensation.

She had, of course, read her fair share of novels. Many of those novels featured romance. But when the heroine saw the hero and fell madly in love with him at first sight, it was always a little different. There was no mention of any heat. Her heart fluttered, the narrator informed the readers, and perhaps she felt likely to swoon. She might actually swoon, depending on the author.

But there was no prickling sensation on her skin. No tightening of her gut. No pulsing between her legs, a tiny tug, a new sensation that was not uncomfortable but still felt remarkably wrong.

Or perhaps Thalia had simply glossed over those parts.

Christian sighed, making her jump, and slid up the seat towards her. He moved an inch too far, and the outside of his thigh pressed against hers. At once, heat shot up her leg. The touch seemed to scald somehow, and the pulsing in her core intensified.

She stiffened, sitting up straighter and squaring her shoulders. “Move away, Your Grace,” she hissed.

Christian pursed his lips. “I was going to apologize for turning up unannounced, but if you are going to be unpleasant about it…”

She rounded on him. “You are dragging me into something that may cause me a great deal of harm. You cannot seriously expect me to be pleasant.”

“In fact, I do. It’s in your best interest to be seen with me, Your Majesty, if you want anybody to believe that you are my betrothed. When our engagement becomes public, a great deal of scrutiny will be leveled at you. If I were you, I would concentrate on preparing for that. And as for me, I would like my sister safe at home before Society notices her absence.”

She glared, leaning forward. “Laura is my dearest friend.”

“Well, she did not mention you very often. I have never heard of you.”

“She never spoke of you either. One might have assumed she did not have a brother.”

He growled. “You are quite the expert on my sister, aren’t you?”

“Well, one of us has to be. You barely knew her, from what I can gather.”

Christian’s eyes narrowed.

Have I gone too far?