Chapter 8

Damien Blackwell let out a slow breath as he adjusted the cuffs of his tailored blue suit, his mind still plagued by the ridiculous events of the morning. He had not slept well, and though he had managed to free himself from Kara’s unconscious grasp, the sensation of her lips brushing against his still lingered in his thoughts, much to his irritation.

He reached for his cologne, a deep and refined blend of musk, spices, and a hint of citrus. The moment he applied it to his shirt, the scent dispersed through the room, reaching the still-sleeping Kara. He was shirtless with showing his 8 pack muscles with all the biceps and triceps as if he is an art of some historical artist 

 A soft groan escaped her lips as she stirred. “What is that smell?” she mumbled, her voice groggy with sleep.

Damien barely spared her a glance as he fastened the buttons of his waistcoat. “It is cologne, Miss Winter. Not that it concerns you.”

Kara blinked sleepily, slowly sitting up.  As she did, her eyes landed on Damien,  she couldn’t help but be smitten by his appearance who stood by the mirror, fastening the last of his buttons. The crisp navy-blue fabric of his suit hugged his form perfectly, and the rich scent that clung to him only enhanced his already commanding presence.

Is this man trying to teach students or make them fall in love with him? she wondered, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

As if sensing her gaze, Damien turned, his piercing stare locking onto hers.

“Are you done gawking?” he asked, one brow lifting in amusement.

Kara immediately scowled. “I wasn’t gawking, just… taking in the sight of my oh-so-honorable fiancé.”

He crossed the room with measured steps, stopping before her. “Speaking of which,” he said, “it is time for you to pack your things.”

Kara tilted her head. “Oh? And where am I off to now?”

Damien adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves. “Somewhere safe. At least until our marriage is formally arranged.”

Kara stared at him. “You’re serious?”

He met her gaze evenly. “You know as well as I do that society will not be kind if word gets out that you’ve been staying here. And considering the circumstances, I have decided that marrying you is the most rational course of action.”

For a moment, Kara could only blink. “You’ve decided?” she echoed. “As if I have no say in the matter?”

Damien’s expression remained unreadable. “Would you rather return to your father and let him decide for you?”

She flinched at the thought. “No.”

“Then this is your best option.”

She let out a slow breath. “Alright. But if I do marry you, how do you plan to explain the baby?”

Damien glanced toward the sleeping child, his expression softening ever so slightly. “I have already devised a solution. I will claim that she is the son of a late friend, one who left her in my care in his final moments. It is a believable enough tale.”

Kara studied him carefully, searching for any hesitation in his demeanor. “You’ve really thought this through.”

“I had to.”

She sighed. “Fine. But I expect a proper courtship, Lord Blackwell. None of this ‘I have decided’ nonsense.”

His lips twitched slightly at that. “I will take it into consideration.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smirk that tugged at her lips. This man was infuriating—but at least he wasn’t dull.

Just then, the baby stirred, a soft whimper escaping her lips. Damien, without hesitation, stepped forward and carefully picked her up, cradling her with an ease that surprised Kara.

Kara blinked. “You’re good at that.”

“I learn quickly,” he replied, gently rocking the child. Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he turned to his maid and ordered warm milk for the baby.

Kara watched as he fed the child, carefully ensuring that she was comfortable. The sight was… odd. Odd because it suited him far more than she expected.

As Damien finished, he turned back to Kara. “We need to name her.”

Kara smiled, reaching forward to stroke the baby’s tiny hand. “What about Elise?”

Damien considered it for a moment before nodding. “Elise it is.”

He reached for his glasses, which he had left on the table the previous night, slipping them back on. As he did, Kara noted how the sharp angles of his face seemed to soften slightly behind the lenses.

The realization hit her then—somewhere in the chaos, the irritation she once felt toward him had begun to wane.

And she wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

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