Page 45 of In Service to the Duke

“You can’t say no to me, Daphne,” I grind out, reminding her of the statue she admired not too long ago. “I want you, and I will have you. Make no mistake about that. Even if I have to force my ring upon your finger and tie you down to our wedding bed.”

My words hit their mark, because soon, her eyes shine with unshed tears and terror. I feel deplorable in that moment, and nearly give in, telling her I speak in jest. I’m not sure what stays my lips. It would be all too easy to just apologize, but I can’t.

It’s not only because I am a Duke, refusing to admit fault, but also because I am a man, a lover, spurned. But what’s worse is the arousal wafting up from her body. Just as much as her mind says no, her body says yes.

As much as I want to resist its siren call, I almost cannot. It takes every ounce of willpower within me to keep us separated. In this moment, I want nothing more than to wipe everything off my desk and cast her upon it, tying her to me as I rid her of her pesky virginity.

“Please,” she whimpers, but I cut her off.

“A little too late to beg, isn’t it? Shouldn’t you have done so earlier after realizing your mistake? Be warned, Miss Gillet, offers of marriage are rarely given multiple times. Now which is it? Will we be wed? Or will you continue to reject me?”

“Please don’t hurt me.” This time, the fear and agony are all too clear in her voice.

I can no longer ignore it. Gathering her in my arms, I wait until she goes from rigid to pliant before speaking again. “Sweetling. I- I would never force you. I would hope you’d know by now I have more honor than that.”

She sniffles softly but refuses to answer. There’s no way I can fix this. Not really. But perhaps… “I do have feelings for you. That is… I could love you.” The words don’t ring false in my head as I say them.

In fact, it feels right. I was just too stupid and blinded by shock and anger to realize it. However, instead of having the intended effect, Miss Gillet shoves me off of her, breaking the closeness between us.

Anger lights her face as she draws back her hand. I barely have time to understand what she’s doing before the sting of her palm against my cheek lights up my brain. Feral need and rage infuse my body, priming it for action.

I don’t even give her the chance to strike again. The moment her hand moves, I capture her wrist, pinning it to her side. I do the same with the other until all she can do is struggle in my grasp.

“Let me go, you brute,” she seethes, her fury nearly matching my own.

“How dare you strike an Alpha, let alone a duke! I should put you over my knee and blister your backside.”

“Then why don’t you?” Her voice is laden with venom and quite possibly hurt as she glares up at me.

With a heavy sigh, I let her go and step back. This isn’t having the effect I want at all. I’m supposed to be wooing her, not antagonizing her. But then, with my pride still wounded, I’m not sure if I can salvage anything between us quite yet.

“You don’t deserve my punishment.” The sentence hangs heavy between us as I make my way toward the door.

When I had decided to make her my wife, I was more than willing to take her in hand. Now, I can’t even bear the thought of touching her skin without marking it in some fundamental way. Hurt from her rejection still stings, like salt in an open wound.

I can’t allow myself to wallow. Her rejection is not the end of the world. There will be other women. But even as I think this, I know it’s not true. I’ve yet to find anyone like her.

Slowly, my resolve envelops my heart, building a battlement around it. I have to keep my wits about me and see to my duties as duke. Just because this slip of an omega refuses to marry me doesn’t mean I get to dishonor both of us.

“I will no longer oversee your punishment. If there is any correction to be done, the butler will see to it.”

I open the door, giving her a decided nod as she slinks through. How did everything go so wrong? Did I misjudge the situation? Misjudge her? For the first time, I saw myself settling down with another, joining my life to hers, and now…

Now, I see nothing but a bleak emptiness in front of me. I detest how weak and alone I feel. Drawing in a deep breath, I force these morose feelings to the side and instead replace it with rage.

How dare she say no. Storming over to the desk, I look down at the lump covered in my handkerchief. With a roar, I grab it and toss it into the blazing fire.

This way, there’s no evidence of what occurred here. Besides, it’s not as if the cook will miss one hunk of ginger. Turning back, I swipe my hands across the desk, sending the contents flying.

Yes, it’s childish. Yes, it’s a tantrum. But no, I don’t care. In this moment, I can only feel, rationality be damned. Perhaps later I’ll be able to comport myself as the responsible duke, but for now, I wish only to rid my study of her.

But to do that, I’d have to acquire a new desk and a new spanking chair. Neither of which is easy to come by here in the country. At least not as swiftly as I would require. Striding over behind the desk, I sit in my chair and look at the chaos surrounding me.

It matches the swirl of my emotions far too much for comfort. The longer I sit there, the more it eats at me. To think some omega reduced me to this state over something like this. With painstaking slowness, I pick up each piece and put it where it belongs.

By the time I’m done, the full wrath of my anger has subsided, but still, it’s not enough. I fully expected to walk out of this study prepared to go to our family church to start the process of reading the banns.

Now, I’m alone with nothing but my thoughts, hurt, and anger. Unfortunately, none of those are a good combination. My fingers twitch at my side with the need to pull Miss Gillet back in here and spank her until she sees reason.