Lady Evelyn Ravenshire despised the very sight of Damian Vale, the arrogant and insufferable Duke of Ashbourne. From the moment he had insulted her at the royal ball, calling her “a reckless storm better suited to solitude,” she had sworn to never waste ahought on him.

  A, fate had other pns.

  A royal decree bound them together in an arranged e—oher of them wanted. Forced into close quarters, Evelyn made it her mission to challenge Damian at every turn. If he was cold, she was fire. If he ignored her, she made sure to be impossible to overlook.

  But what she didn’t see was the way he watched her when she wasn’t looking. The way his fiwitched when she was near, as if ag to touch her. The way his carefully built walls began to crack with every sharp retort she threw his way.

  One evening, after a heated argumeh the moonlit terrace, Evelyn turo leave, but Damian’s hand caught her wrist. His grip was firm, his expression unreadable.

  “You drive me mad,” he muttered, his voice lower than usual.

  She scoffed. “Good. Now let me go.”

  But he didn’t. Instead, he stepped closer, his breath warm against her skin. His eyes, once filled with nothing but disdain, now held something else—something deeper, something dangerous.

  “I don’t want to,” he fessed. “And that terrifies me more than anything.”

  In that moment, the hatred, the rivalry, the stubbora all crumbled. Because Damian Vale, the untouchable Duke, had fallen. Hard.

  And there was n babsp;

  Written by Adele _hill