Page 153 of The Grand Duel

With my hair wet and my body missing Luna’s heat, I shiver.

Charles disappears into his walk-in wardrobe, appearing a moment later with a navy-blue hoodie. He slips it over my head, and I instantly feel wrapped in him, the smell of him…I wait, slipping my arms through the holes.

His eyes dart around my face, the uncertainty in them making my chest hurt.

When he finally turns around, I dip my nose into the neck of the hoodie and close my eyes, letting the smell of him fully seep into me.

How did I forget that smell?

How did I not know?

I follow him out of the room and down the stairs, feeling as if he’s restraining himself from guiding me whenever we get close to one another. As if he needs the physical touch but thinks better of it.

“What time is it?” I ask.

“Nearly eight.” He turns when we reach the bottom of the stairs. “Will you stay for dinner?”

I take in his T-shirt and black joggers, the stubble across his jaw, and his eyes that plead with me to say yes.

“Okay.”

“Can I get you a drink?”

“What do you have?”

“What do you want? I’ll go out.”

I frown. “Don’t be silly. Do you have any wine?”

“Red or white?”

“White’s fine.”

He heads off to the kitchen, and I take a seat on the sofa, wondering if staying for dinner is a good idea when I still feel so hurt.

My stomach growls, and I close my eyes, the feeling one I hate.

“Incoming.”

I look over the sofa just as Daisy leaps up onto the cushions. She tramples me until I rub at her chest and then sits.

Charles places the wine down on the table along with a bowl of crisps. “Help yourself, Lissie,” he tells me.

I reach forward and take a handful. “Thank you.”

He sits down on the other end of the sofa, and Daisy instantly climbs into his lap. “She’s my shadow,” he says, giving me a half smile. “I try to cuddle Luna, but she hates it.”

“She’s actually been super cuddly today.”

“I saw. She seems to trust you in a way she doesn’t with me.”

I give him a forced smile, feeling awkward and not knowing where to look with him watching me.

“Can I try and explain?”

I shrug and roll my lips. “I can’t promise I’ll react with a cool head if you do,” I tell him honestly.

“I can understand why you’re angry at me.”