Bound by fire, Claimed by love

Evelyn barely had time to compose herself after last night's encounter with Damian when a sharp knock echoed through her chambers.

Before she could answer, the door swung open, revealing Lady Isabelle Hawthorne—her best friend and persistent source of mischief.

"Darling, do you know what people are whispering this morning?" Isabelle sauntered inside, a smirk playing at her lips. "That our dear Duke of Ashbourne, the ever-distant and brooding Damian Vale, was seen lingering outside your chambers late into the night."

Evelyn felt heat creep up her neck. "He was not—"

"Oh, but he was," Isabelle interrupted, flopping onto the chaise lounge as if she belonged there. "And let me guess, you were too busy not noticing the way he looks at you?"

Evelyn turned away, suddenly very interested in adjusting the lace of her sleeve. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Isabelle gasped dramatically. "You do! Oh, this is delicious. Evelyn, tell me, has our ruthless Duke finally been tamed by a certain fire-hearted lady?"

Evelyn picked up a cushion and threw it at her. "You are insufferable."

"And you, my dear, are falling." Isabelle caught the cushion effortlessly, her grin widening. "Tell me, did he kiss you senseless yet, or is he still pretending he's not completely smitten?"

Evelyn's silence was all the answer Isabelle needed.