«Don't talk like that,» the Duke whispers in what sounds more like a request than an order.
His voice is so desperate that I turn my head and openly look at him. His eyes are not glaring anymore, and he looks exactly like a puppy that was scolded by its owner.
«Don't think of yourself as a prisoner, and don't be so polite to me...» he continues.
I startle when he stretches out his hand, but I don't step back when he moves the hair from my shoulder.
«And don't be so afraid. I won't hurt you.»
His hand slips down and caresses my back slowly. He drags me into his arms, and I can't oppose him because I don't want to die. I'm not doing it on purpose. I'd like not to be afraid, but how can I?
When I calm down my breathing, I press my palm on the Duke's chest, and I move it up, slowly.
«I'm sorry,» I mutter, and I lift my gaze on him. «I won't do it again...»
Even though I'm not sure what angered the Duke.
