Page 64 of The Big Bad Duke

At least Gideon will get out.

The thought brought her a strange sort of comfort, even as the heat from below began to make the air shimmer around her. She had dropped the hairpin to aid in his escape. Even without it, he was resourceful and experienced. If anyone could find a way out of a burning building, it would be him.

He would escape believing she had betrayed him completely, never knowing that her plan had been for them both to survive, to make the Brotherhood believe they were both dead while secretly escaping together. She had been so close to pulling it off, so close to freedom for both of them.

She couldn’t tell him the truth of her plan. He wouldn’t trust her. He didn’t trust her. He would fight her every step of the way. He would interfere. He would spoil the plan; of that she was certain.

Perhaps it was a mistake. She should have told him the truth regardless. But that look in his eyes, that watched her every move carefully, wasn’t a look of a forlorn lover. It was the look of a hunter.

He didn’t trust her.

And she would die with him thinking the worst of her.

The fire was spreading rapidly now, the ancient wood and accumulated debris providing ample fuel for the flames. She could feel the heat against her skin, could see the orange glow growing brighter as it climbed the walls toward her position.

She closed her eyes and tried to think of something other than the growing heat and thickening smoke. She thought of that night, standing in Gideon’s arms surrounded by the fresh, cool night air, as his scorching kiss inflamed her from the tips of her toes to the top of her head.

The way he had looked at her with such tenderness, such reverence…

The smoke was getting thicker now, stinging her eyes and burning her throat. The fire had reached the first floor and was beginning to lick at her feet. She could only hope that the smoke would take her consciousness before the fire reached the rest of her.

Even as the world began to fade around the edges, even as her vision blurred and her breathing became labored, Leila held onto that one perfect memory: Gideon’s lips on hers.

Chapter 12

“Leila! Leila!”

Gideon’s desperate voice was the last thing she heard before awakening. Instead of the roar of fire and desperate screams, all she heard now was the sound of water gurgling over stones.

Warmth surrounded her—not the searing heat of flames, but the solid comfort of strong arms holding her close. Her cheek rested against something firm and steady, and she could hear the rapid beating of a heart beneath her ear.

“Your brother wasn’t there,” Gideon’s voice came from above her, rough with smoke—and something deeper. “I checked every room in the house. He wasn’t there. But I saved you.” His arms tightened around her. “I saved you,” he repeated, as if trying to convince himself.

“Where are we?” Leila asked, lifting her head slowly. She winced at the pain. What had happened to her? How did she get out?

They were beside a small river, far enough from the burning building that the smoke was just a distant haze against the evening sky.

Gideon’s face was streaked with soot, his hair disheveled, but his eyes… they were wild. Haunted.

“In the woods,” he answered. “Away from the burning house, but not far enough.” He looked down at her. “But it doesn’t matter. As long as I saved you.”

So, he hadn’t figured out that she was the one who’d set the fire. She silently thanked her lucky stars.

Perhaps finding her tied up on the stairwell landing had been enough to convince him they’d both been attacked—not just him.

And he’d saved her. He’d carried her out. He now held her gingerly in his arms, as though she were something precious.

She wasn’t.

But the look on his face wasn’t that of a man who’d just escaped death. It was the look of a man unraveling.

She put a trembling hand to his cheek, feeling the rough stubble beneath her palm.

“Are you feeling well?”

He shook his head slowly.

“No.” The answer was raw. Honest.