A Young Woman So Fiery

Maxine shook herself free from his embrace, but he remained stiff. After a moment of thought, she feigned relaxation, and it was only then that he let go of his arms.

She turned around, her attention oblivious to the figures scattered in the room, as her focus was fixed on the imposing figure before her.

For a moment, she wondered if she had died, and her slightly wicked deeds and pride had led her to the afterlife.

The man she had heard of was a devil, yet his handsome features could rival those of an angel. Were it not for those fiery eyes, she might have mistaken him for celestial. 

However, there was no turning back now. She had gazed upon the devil's face, and according to legend, anyone who did so would be condemned to hell.

Clearing her throat, she tried not to entertain such superstitious notions she had always ridiculed, but her thoughts kept circling around the man's undeniable beauty.

The man standing before her, silently observing her without uttering a word, was draped in a dark coat that dwarfed any worn by Prince Maverick. And he was colossal. It reminded her of the moment she had felt his massive arms encircling her waist. She felt quite diminutive in his presence.

Maxine chided herself, admonishing that she couldn't afford to gawk at the man any longer. It would be foolish to prolong her silence, especially when it was only admiration for his appearance. "Who are you?" Her sultry voice quivered slightly.

She struggled to maintain her composure, despite the giveaway of her earlier scream. She had a reputation for being bold and resolute, but it seemed that people had overemphasized her temperament, making her question her own fortitude.

Her heart still trembled within her chest, and she couldn't fathom why.

"Good. I was worried I would lose the staring contest." Maxine detected a smirk on the man's cheek.

After a moment, she realized that the man was taunting her. A staring contest?

She clenched her fist, her knuckles turning white, before demanding, "I asked, who are you?"

"I am Duke Sullivan, My Lady. It is my pleasure to make the acquaintance of a young and renowned healer, Maxine Haverston."

His words, spoken with her name, stirred an unfamiliar sensation in her abdomen.

Maxine flinched at his formality, but a sudden burst of laughter erupted from her throat after a few seconds, forgetting that she had been terrified of this same person.

Once her laughter subsided, she squared her shoulders and declared, "I never knew grown men in our kingdom believed in the nonsense from that book."

A heavy silence hung in the air, and then her eyes narrowed. "And tell me, My Lord, is that a jest you've made?" She nodded. "I find it quite amusing. Given your appearance, you must be a cosplayer."

For a man to joke like this, it meant he didn't pose much harm. However, the recent incident flashed through her mind, but she did her best to disregard it, as dwelling on the memory would only fuel her fear.

Curiosity washed over her, and with a tone of mockery, she asked, "Duke Sullivan, please do explain how you came to have those eyes of yours? Oh, I almost forgot, your eyes were described as 'copper-red' in color."

Her jest was short-lived because she observed the man advancing towards her, causing her to retreat, unsure of what might be raging in his mind.

She had learned that in situations like this, continuous backward movement would eventually lead to entrapment. The prince enjoyed such situations, especially when he intended to tease her. She had resolved never to find herself in such proximity with any other man.

She halted her retreat, swallowing hard as the man now stood directly in front of her, barely a hair's breadth away.

She gulped down more saliva as she felt the man's breath caressing her forehead. Before anything could happen, she thrust her hands forward, attempting to push him away.

However, she collided with an unyielding wall she hadn't known existed, becoming trapped between the wall and the imposing figure before her. Her efforts were in vain.

From her peripheral vision, she noticed his hand making contact with the nearby wall.

Attempting to swallow again, she found her mouth dry as she heard him say, "Damien, you provided incomplete information about the renowned healer."

Only then did she become aware of another presence in the room. She turned her head to look at the man who replied, "Why would you think that, Your Grace?"

But before she could discern the man who had responded, she felt the man in front of her grip her chin tightly, compelling her to meet his copper-red eyes. His voice reached her, his gaze burning into her soul. "A young woman with such fire is a rare sight." He turned his head slightly, addressing the other man, "I would have thought you brought her to satisfy me."