Page 8 of Stolen and Seduced By the Duke

He froze.

She is beautiful.

Her dark eyes were wide with outrage, her dark hair framed her face, and dimples appeared faintly in her cheeks despite her anger. Pierce stared for one moment longer than he intended.

"Lady Margaret," he said slowly. "Is it?"

She nodded.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked.

Margaret's defiance faltered. "I am pledged by contract to be married in one week to a man that I despise. I believe that only public ruin can save me from it."

"I understand," he said quietly, and he meant it.

Margaret searched his mismatched eyes. "So will you help ruin me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Now?"

Pierce stared at her.

For the first time that evening, he was tempted to break his own rules.

His eyes focused on her quivering lips.

Mm, so ready and willing.

CHAPTER 3

Margaret stared at him, scarcely remembering how to breathe. She had noticed his eyes before, but only now did she truly understand how extraordinary they were.

One was green, deep and arresting, while the other was a clear, startling blue, and together they possessed an unsettling beauty that seemed almost designed to make a woman forget whatever sensible thought she had been holding.

She had never seen eyes like them, and she hated the way her attention kept returning to them when she ought to have been thinking about the catastrophe awaiting her at home.

Pierce stepped closer, and Margaret's breath caught. She had expected anger, perhaps another lecture about recklessness, but the quiet intensity in his expression unsettled her far more than either would have done.

When he lifted a hand and gently tilted her chin upwards, her body seemed to forget its instructions entirely, leaving her strangely still beneath his touch. She was frightened, but not because she believed he meant to harm her; she was frightened because some treacherous part of her wanted him to continue.

She had come into this room determined to manufacture a scandal, yet she had not expected to discover that the real danger might be her own reaction to the Duke of Ravenfield himself.

His gaze lingered upon her face before he bent his head.

Margaret's heart began to pound as his lips brushed lightly against the side of her neck, barely a touch and yet enough to send a shiver through her.

She gasped in response to the bold move.

Is this not what you wanted?

She closed her eyes for the briefest moment, furious with herself for doing so, and felt his breath warm against her skin.

"You are not prepared for what you have asked," Pierce murmured near her ear, his voice low and controlled.

Margaret swallowed, every sensible thought insisting that she step away while another, far less sensible part of her wanted to remain precisely where she was.

"I…I…" was all she could say.

Then he withdrew.

The sudden distance left her almost dizzy, and before she could recover, Pierce lifted her mask and carefully replaced it over her face.