Page 62 of The Duke’s Rejected Mate

“Oh, I understand plenty. These nights away from you have given me a clarity I didn’t have when you turned my head with your filthy speech and dark arousal.”

“Oh, and what clarity is that?”

“That Henhaven actually wants me as a wife.”

“He wants you as a mother to his sisters,” I spit out. “It’s clear that’s his priority. Why else would he put forth his suit when you two are unacquainted?”

She steps back from me, pain shining through her gaze. It’s not my intention to hurt her, but it’s the truth. Well, at least a truth.

“You think no one else could find it in them to love me? That no one else would want me?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?” she screeches. “That I’m only good enough to be a wife in name and a mother in duty, all the while I am to be your whore?”

“Not my whore,” I snarl.

“Then what do you call it? What do you call a woman who marries another but still carries on with another man? You speak of duty, honor, and loyalty. You will die for your family to prevent them from coming to scandal, but you refuse to think twice of asking me to do the unthinkable?”

“But my family-”

“Oh blast your family,” she sobs out. “Though we are all bosom friends, when will you ever choose me over them? When will you choose your heart over duty? When will you ever love me enough?”

“Cynthia, I-”

“I can’t. I can’t hear it anymore. I can’t hear you make these declarations knowing they will never come true. I’m tired of waiting. I’m tired of hoping. I’m just… I’m just tired of all of it. Henhaven asked for my hand. That’s more than you’ve ever done.”

My heart slams in my chest as emotions swirl under the surface. I have to tell her. I have to show her how I feel. If not now, when?

“Cynthia Campbell,” I snarl, stepping closer. “I have loved you from the moment you ran into me, covering me with your cloud of flour. I have craved you since your scent changed and blossomed, showing me the woman who grew from the girl I ignored. I love you in a way that has no words. Please. Please, Cynthia. I love you.”

At that final declaration, she brings her hand back before hurling it toward me. The minx means to slap me. I grab her delicate wrist in my grasp and drag her to me, cupping her head with my free hand as I bend low to capture her lips with mine.

Tears wet her face and drip down her chin as her other hand balls into a fist to strike me in the chest. Such delicate blows, such adorable fury. I take her anger, her ire, her hurt. I soak them in as the penance I must bear.

Soon, she sags against me, pressing her body to mine as her lips move in a hungry fashion. She’s kissing me back. My heart soars as I wrap my arm around her waist, keeping her close as I continue to hold her other wrist aloft.

“Ahem.”

A soft clearing of the throat permeates my brain. All senses come to high alert as I pull back and look toward the door. Cynthia sways against me, drunk on need and lust as I take in a sight I hoped to have never seen.

Henhaven stands in the doorway, arms crossed as he studies us. He says nothing, but then, he doesn’t have to. Behind him, my friends stare, their expressions a mix of emotions. I know in some ways, they’re happy for us, but in others… the scandal alone is very ill-timed.

Cynthia raises her head and looks over, gasping as she sees the audience. In desperation, she tugs at her wrist, demanding I set it free. I oblige, unwilling to cause her any more distress.

“Henhaven!” she cries out. “I-”

He holds up a hand, cutting her off. “I see.” That’s all he says. With a turn on his heel, he walks away, leaving me to hold Cynthia as she finally breaks down.

“What were you thinking?” Robert snarls. “Here, where the whole Ton could have borne witness? Are you mad?”

I gather Cynthia in my arms, shielding her from the righteous anger. “I love her,” I finally answer, unsure of what else there is to say. “I could not let her marry another without her knowing the truth.”

My friends shake their heads, thankfully keeping further opinions to themselves. They stand guard at the door, making sure others don’t come in.

“You know our wives will know of this,” Benedict sighs.

“I don’t doubt it.”