The Unwanted Duchess Claims Her Throne

, coiling heat that started deep in her belly and spread to every limb. Her breath hitched

tched her struggle. "It seems you aren't quite as composed as you pretend to be." He saw her

as a 'wedding gift' from Father himself. A special blend of inc

veins, momentarily cutting through the heat. Her own father had conspired in thi

nfidence. "We can talk properly. Or, perhaps, we can do what a husband and wife are meant to do

elaborate hairstyle and pulled free a long, steel hairpin-nearly six inches, wickedly sharp at o

he smirk vanished from his face, replaced by a flicker of genuine shock, then a surge of

he drug made her voice husky,

oice cracked into a shrill, undignified squeal, all traces of her earli

d, broken creature he'd known for years. And yet, even as fury burned through him, something else stirred beneath it. Something dark and unwilling. Admiration. His v

e drug. She needed an escape route. Now. She couldn't hold him off for long. H

lawn. Soft earth. A survivable fall for someone who knew how to land. The thought was cold, calculated. Her left ankle would

straction. One

, chilling smile on her lips. "I am the

itate, made Isabelle frown in confusion. In th

all her might-not at him, but across the room. The steel pin flew throu

ng before the entire sheet of glass cascaded to the floor in a waterfall of glittering shards. Bot

opening s

around her legs like a leaden shroud, but she ignored it, adrenaline surg

ed for the hem of Elenore's dress. But she was too slow. Her fingers caught nothing but a handful of torn silk, the fabric ri

, Elenore pushed off. She threw herself out

ng skidded to a halt at the open window, his face contorted with fury and utter bewilderment. His hands gripped the stone window frame until his knuckles turned wh

e had shattered his pride, his control, and every single one of his expectations. And somewhere

ed to the shadows be

ssion as he stared into the darkness-and what she saw there was not merely fury. It was fascination. For the first time, Isabelle Wells und

nore was already gone. The hunt was on.