Page 96 of The Duchess He Couldn’t Resist

“That’s it,” Brandon encouraged her. “Almost there, Marigold. Please hold on.”

Marigold heard a chilling crack. Debris was falling, the ceiling was collapsing. Brandon grunted as something hit him, and his whole body shook. She looked up, but he held her tighter and kept his pace. Marigold held on, making sure that her body weight was not dragging him down.

She dared look around, but there was nothing to see. Fire everywhere, screams and popping sounds, shadows moving in the smoke. Everything was crumpling around them.

“We won’t make it,” she said, making sure he heard her. “Let me down. I am slowing you down.”

His answer was to hold her closer.

“Brandon, let me down!” she demanded. “You can make it out. I can run.”

“Never,” he said and kept on.

“I don’t want to⁠—”

“I am not letting you go!” he said and ran faster.

The door out of the warehouse was up ahead. Marigold wrapped her body around his, and he held onto her as he lunged forward. Finally, the exit. He burst through it, and Marigold took a deep breath of fresh air.

Brandon collapsed onto the ground, but his arms stayed strong around her, still holding her close to his chest.

“Brandon!” She tried to pull back.

He pulled her closer still, his face in her neck, breathing her more than the much-needed air. She let go in this sensation. Feeling safe in his arms, feeling him near, warm, alive.

Around them, there was complete chaos. The building was collapsing, and she could hear people shouting orders, the rumbling of boots, screams and yells, but none of it mattered. She nuzzled even closer and let herself have this moment of serenity.

After a while, his hold on her relaxed. She turned and finally got a good look at the face she was longing for. Their eyes met. His were wild, fierce, and desperate.

“I thought…” he said. “I thought I lost you.”

Marigold nodded. The ache in his voice made her heart constrict.

“For a moment there,” she responded, “I thought I was lost too.”

His jaw tightened, his heart pounded against hers. It was as if that possibility alone, the thought of her gone, made him more hurt than the wounds she saw on his body.

“Were you being reckless again?” Marigold scolded, as her eyes watered.

A low, incredulous chuckle left his lips. It was as if a dam was broken with that little sound, and he tightened his jaw.

“You are safe,” he said with utter relief. “You are safe.”

Marigold hugged him, not out of despair now but out of need, warmth, and love.

“I am safe. You saved me.”

He said nothing. Just held her, a simple act that was everything.

Brandon cradled her for what seemed like infinite time. He then pulled back and looked at all of her body until his eyes reached her feet. The ends of her skirt were ruined, and he could see her shoes were charred and melted.

“Your feet!” he gasped. “You are hurt.”

“I am fine. It’s nothing. The fire didn’t reach me that much.”

“You’re not fine!” he growled.

He then picked her up and placed her on a crate nearby and knelt before her. He lifted her feet gently, examining the damage with soft hands. The skin was red, and blisters were forming, but the burns were not deep.