Page 59 of The Knight

And yet, without even trying, Freya had slipped past every defense he’d built. She was already closer to him than anyone had been since, hell, since he could remember.

Now, whenever he closed his eyes, he could feel her—her body softening in his arms, the way she’d trembled as he brought her to the edge

The connection unnerved him. It was more than physical. Something deeper. And he didn’t do deeper.

Was it just a one-off? A moment of weakness, circumstances pushing her into decisions she might regret? He didn’t know, but he wanted answers. Even though he knew she needed to rest, a more primal urge drowned out the voice of reason.

He wanted her.Needed her.

His memory, unhelpfully detailed, fueled his desire. The way her breathing had become erratic under his touch, how soft and wet she’d been.

She wanted me too.

His breath hitched, his cock hardening.

Fuck.He turned the shower to full cold and stood under the icy spray until his skin was numb and his head clearer.

Dried off and a fresh dressing on his shoulder, he pulled on clean shorts and left the ensuite bathroom, entering the vast bedroom with its imposing tall windows. The view of Fox’s estate stretched before him. It still blew his mind that Fox, one of the most down-to-earth men he knew, owned such isolated opulence. The lack of artificial light made the stars bright and clear.

His gaze drifted to the closed connecting door separating him from Freya. The breath-taking view paled compared to what lay beyond that threshold. His hand twitched at his side, caught between the urge to knock and the fear of what might happen if he did.

He blew out a breath and finished dressing.

Now or never.

He collected two glasses and a bottle of bourbon that Pen had provided on the dresser, then rapped on the connecting door.

If she told him no, he would fuck off, but he had to take a chance.

“Abe?” Her voice was close. The door opened.

Abbie had loaned her clothes, and she was wearing a loose t-shirt that skimmed the top of her thighs, her legs and feet bare. Her hair was damp on her shoulders. She looked nothing like the uptight scientist he had met only a few days ago. This was his Freya.

His Duchess.

Mine.

A knot tightened in his chest. His heart, so accustomed to staying guarded, felt fragile. She looked up at him through her lashes. Her eyes were dark, glinting with something that burned beneath the surface. A smoldering intensity that mirrored the storm inside him.

She felt it too.

More blood surged into his already rock-hard cock.

Fuck, she was beautiful.

“I thought you might like a nightcap.” He moved into the room, turning his back to her to conceal his erection. He placed the glasses and bourbon on the dressing table, pouring the amber liquid. The spicy scent teased his nostrils as he handed her a glass.

“What do you say?” he asked, his voice low.

She accepted the glass, her fingers brushing his. “I say thank you.”

He clinked his glass against hers. “Here’s to a safe resolution.”

“Safe resolution.” She sipped, her delicate throat working as she swallowed.

Abe cleared his throat.Focus.“I still don’t want you at this auction. It’s too dangerous.”

“I understand your concern, but it’s not your decision to make.” Her tongue flicked across her lips, pink and quick. It was all he could do not to groan. “Besides, I’m not sure there’s a choice to be made.”