The Duke's Sins | ongoing

Blessings From The Devil

11~blessings from the devil

They say honesty is the best policy. No one talks about what the second-best policy is.

Her eyebrows shot up. "Fiancé? You're engaged?" She asked me, her face aghast with disbelief.

"Yes. Well, no. Not as of yet." I bit out, my grip like a vice on the Duke's hand.

Suddenly, he tightened his hold too and I gasped softly at the strength of his fingers.

"Perhaps we should start from the very beginning. I'm a Duke, so for security reasons, Delilah was forced to keep things silent." I grabbed his hand with both of mine as he continued, my shock increasing by the second. He simply smirked at my effort to pry his hand off mine. "Your daughter's also a journalist, which only complicated things further."

To my mother, we probably looked lovesick—staring into each other's eyes with our hands clasped together.

Really, he was glaring at me with a look twice as dark as mine.

And the hold over my hands was anything but romantic.

"A-a Duke?" She asked.

I felt a grin curve through my lips as she continued to gape at him; no bows, none of that 'Your Grace' bullshit.

Sometimes, I really loved my mother.

"Your Grace, please do come in."

Sometimes, I really disliked her.

He followed her inside, his hand still tight on mine.

"You seem to have learnt the entire script by-heart," I muttered under my breath as we walked through the mansion.

"Yes, your friend Dave has been of great help," he pulled me into him using our tied hands. "Stop struggling," he whispered, eyeing my grip.

I let out a sigh, loosening my hold as we approached the living room. My breath caught in my throat as he laced his fingers gently through mine again, his thumb rubbing soft circles into the back of my hand.

"Please, take a seat." My mother gestured to the housekeeper. "Some refreshments for the Duke please, Edna."

Edna blinked at me, and then the Duke and then our clasped hands before she raced out with a pale face.

Poor woman.

Dave stood awkwardly by the door, mouthing an apology to me. I looked away from him; I was too busy trying not to concentrate on the heat of the Duke's body against mine.

His leg pressed up against mine as he politely refused the tea Edna offered. I shrugged my hand out of his, shifting in my seat. I cursed under my breath when he shuffled further into me.

"Language, Miss Rossi." His eyes darkened, a warning lying beneath his words.

"Do you mind?" I whispered, shooting a calm smile at my mother.

"Do I mind what?" He placed a casual touch over my thigh, my core clenching in response.

I swallowed. "C-can you..."

He dipped his face closer to mine, his minty breath cascading over my lips. "Can I what?"

I inhaled sharply. "Move your hand."

He lowered his voice. "I'd get used to it."

Nevertheless, he removed his touch. Cold wrapped around me as he moved away and I pressed my legs together, annoyed at the tremors racing up my spine.

He stood up, tugging me to my feet with him. "I'm afraid I really must leave. Is it okay if I borrow Delilah for a while?"

My mother shot me a look. I nodded inconspicuously and she smiled at the Duke. "Of course, Your Grace."

She remained seated and I felt her confused eyes on my back long after we'd left the room.

I spotted my brother as we began to walk out, a look of recognition passing over his face.

"Jaxon," Daniel addressed, giving the Duke's hand a firm shake. "What are doing here?"

I'd already assumed the two knew each other, knowing how far my brother's contacts spread. But their handshake spoke of friendship—an old one.

"Oh, so you already know my fiancé?" I forced a smile. "That's nice."

I held my breath as my brother narrowed his eyes. "What?"

The Duke's roaming fingers settled on the small of my back. "You see—"

"Daniel," my mother interrupted. "A quick chat, please."

After pinning the Duke with a deadly glare, he followed my mother in.

"He's not going to kill me is he?"

I let out a humourless laugh. "I hope he does."

"For someone who's supposed to be around for my security," the corner of his mouth lifted in amusement, "you threaten me an awful lot."

"Who me?" I gasped. And then I curled my fingers around his collar to yank him close. "You ruined things for me. Just know that I'm capable of damage." His eyes dropped to my lips as I continued, "Even if my hands are tied."

"I'll bear that in mind," he replied huskily.

He grabbed my wrist as I walked away, halting me in my steps. "The thought of your hands tied doesn't sound like too much of a bad idea, though."

I felt a blush creep up my neck as I ripped my wrist out of his hold, his gaze hot on my back as he followed me outside.

As I'd expected, Dave stood outside the house, pacing back and forth. He stopped mid-step as he spotted us.

"There are a few dates I've just been updated on," he began. The Duke and I looked at each other for a split second before turning our attention back to Dave. "Delilah, you will be moving in with the Duke the day after tomorrow." He held up a hand when I opened my mouth to object. "Before that, your family will receive a formal invitation to the Duke's estate where the two of you will engage in a press conference."

He took in a deep breath. "Any questions?"

"I do," the Duke raised a hand. "Is the act of threatening a client punishable in your industry, Dave? Because Delilah—"

He let out a hiss as I pulled his arm taut behind his back, shooting Dave a sweet smile. "What His Grace really means is—" I looked up at him, the intensity of his gaze stealing my breath for a split second. "What he really means is that he cannot wait."

Suddenly, he yanked on my grip, pulling me flush against him.

"Trust me. I really can't."

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Love,
Laila.