Forever Betrothed, Never The Bride - Plot & Excerpts
It did not escape his notice how Mallen failed to rise when Drake entered the room. Nor did the stoic man offer any greeting. Instead, he watched Drake with a hawk-like intensity, as if he feared Drake were a thief from the Seven Dials with intentions of absconding with the family jewels. Which, come to think of it, wasn’t too far from the mark. When it didn’t seem as though the duke had any intentions of offering him a seat, Drake motioned to the leather-winged chair in front his desk. “May I?” Mallen rapped distractedly on the desktop, the first indication of the other man’s unease. “As you wish.” Drake settled into the seat and folded his ankle at the knee. He could easily understand Mallen’s dogged protectiveness of Emmaline. Though Drake had no siblings, he imagined if he did, that the last thing he’d allow was for his sister to wed a rogue like himself; especially after she’d been hurt by said rogue.
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