Evelyn's breath caught in her throat. This was not the cold, arrogant duke she had spent months loathing. This was a man undone, stripped of his pride, standing before her with nothing but raw, unguarded emotion.
"Let me go, Damian," she whispered, but her voice wavered.
His fingers tightened around her wrist—not in force, but in silent desperation. His storm-gray eyes searched hers, as if looking for something, anything, that would allow him to pull her closer instead of letting her slip away.
"You don't understand, do you?" His voice was rough, like he was fighting a battle within himself. "I thought hating you would be easier than this."
Evelyn swallowed hard. "And what is this?"
Damian exhaled sharply, shaking his head as if the words burned his tongue. Then, as if surrendering to an unseen force, he cupped her face in his hands, his touch achingly gentle.
"This," he murmured, brushing his lips barely an inch from hers. "This madness you put me through. The way you consume my every thought. The way I can't bear the idea of another man looking at you the way I do."
Evelyn's heart pounded. He was too close, his warmth intoxicating, his voice threading into her very bones. But she refused to give in so easily.
"You expect me to believe you?" she challenged, though her voice betrayed her.
Damian let out a low chuckle, but there was no humor in it—only resignation. "I don't expect anything, Evelyn," he admitted, his thumb tracing the curve of her cheek. "But whether you believe me or not doesn't change the truth."
He leaned in, just enough for her to feel the ghost of his breath against her lips. "I wanted to hate you," he confessed. "But I never stood a chance."
And with that, he did what he had been holding back for far too long—he kissed her.
A kiss that was nothing like the cold, distant man she once knew. It was deep, consuming, and filled with a longing so intense it left them both breathless.
She should have pushed him away. She should have resisted.
But instead, she found herself lost in him, in the fire that had burned between them for so long—one that had finally, irrevocably, turned into something else.
Something neither of them could escape.