Chapter Three
Bishop felt like shite.
He honestly didn’t know how he’d made it to the retiring rooms on the third floor, but the door shut behind him with a click, and the annoying chatter of the gaming floor disappeared entirely.
Sheer force of will brought him to the center of the room, all his focus trained on the woman before him stationed by the window, already waiting, and not the riot happening in his body.
He’d won.
He might die, but he’d won.
“Alyssia.”
She turned slowly, spine straight, chin high, and his heart did that damned thing again, a sudden and unbidden twist in his chest. She was real. A part of him had still been in doubt up until this moment.
“As pretty as ever,” he murmured before he could stop himself. His head was two counts, no, perhaps three counts, slower than normal.
She raised a brow. A pretty brow. “Pretty as ever? That’s all you have to say to me after twelve years? I suppose I ought to be elated you still remembered my name, Giles.”
Ah, Christ. He deserved that. “Forgive me, Liss, my head is not . . .” What’s the word?
“Attached straight?” she finished for him. “And don’t call me Liss. I’m not that girl anymore.”
No, she wasn’t, he supposed. “What about you? Is your head attached correctly, seeing as you are here?”
“My head has never been sturdier,” she countered, folding her arms. “But I wasn’t expecting you.”
“I wasn’t expecting you either,” he murmured. “Believe me. What happened for you to be here?”
She glared at him. “I can ask the same of you.”
Bishop sighed. The discussion wouldn’t go anywhere at this rate, and his whole body was heating, rejecting the contents of the glasses he’d consumed.
“There are reasons I had to stay away.” Bile rose but he swallowed it down.
“I hadn’t planned on revealing myself just yet, but I saw you and, damn it, Alyssia, I couldn’t just allow you to marry a fool. ”
“Aren’t I marrying one?”
He couldn’t hold back a low chuckle. “Rather the fool you know, correct?”
“I don’t know you at all. You vanished for twelve years. Without a letter. Without a word. I thought you were dead.”
“I might as well have been,” Bishop admitted.
Her brows furrowed. “What does that even mean?”
How to explain? He had a good life with Crane, however, “It means I lost everything that was dear to me, Alyssia. My parents were murdered. I was to follow their fate as well.” His mouth curved, humorless. “Uncle’s orders.” He couldn’t stop a note of mockery in those last two words.
Her face lost all color.
“I ran,” he said simply. He’d long looked back at that time of his life with detachment, to be honest. “I hid. I waited. And I watched until I could return and claim what was mine.”
“Your uncle did this? Are you sure?”
Bishop nodded. “His cutthroat was very vocal about that fact.”
Silence fell between them. Thick. Fractured. Familiar.
“I . . . I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” She looked away before her gaze slid back to him. “Why are you here?”
“At the Lyon’s Den or in London?”
“Both.”
“The Duke of Crane saved me, and I’ve been serving as his right-hand man ever since. He lives remotely, rarely leaves the country, so it suited me. I’m at the Den for his purpose, in London for my own.”
Her throat worked. “And you just decided to play for me.”
“What else was I to do?” Bishop asked. “You’ve always been mine.”
She stared at him flatly, and a burst of laughter escaped her lips. “What a horribly male thing to say.”
Probably. “I’m still saying it.”
She faltered, her hand settling across her throat. “I don’t know what you expect me to say to that,” she said after a moment.
“I expect nothing.” Only that she wed him and no one else. He advanced toward her, against all judgment, needing to be closer. “I merely wish a chance to make right some of the wrongs from the past.”
“You owe me nothing, Giles.”
He didn’t like that sound of that. Not one damn bit. “Let me be the judge of that.” He took one last step, closing the final distance between them. “Can you do that?”
She sighed, but her eyes still held his. “I don’t know what I can do with this,” she admitted. “With you.”
He grinned. “You can do anything you wish.”
“Don’t be tart,” she admonished.
“Very well, but you also don’t have to do anything tonight,” he said. “Except believe that all my intentions toward you have only ever been good.”
Her lips parted, perhaps to argue, perhaps to laugh again, but no sound came, and he caught the faint tremor of her fingers as she tucked an errant curl behind her ear.
A thousand things seemed to war within her gaze: anger, hurt, disbelief, uncertainty, acceptance, and a variety he couldn’t begin to name.
“Good intentions,” she repeated softly. “The past cannot be made up for with intentions.”
“No,” he admitted. She was right in that. “But it must begin somewhere.”
“I grieved you, you know.”
Bloody hell.
He couldn’t . . . and he didn’t know how much longer he could hold on.
“I know.”
“I won’t grieve you again.”
“You’ll never have to.”
She snorted. “Still so arrogant. That, at least, hasn’t changed. Do not make promises you cannot keep.”
He smiled faintly. “You’ve always enjoyed futile attempts to prove me wrong.”
That earned him a sharp glance. “Don’t you dare charm me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, though his voice had softened. “You’re far too clever to be charmed, and I’m far too spent to attempt it.”
Her gaze traced his face, and for a moment, compassion flitted across her expression, and he thought she might reach for him. She didn’t. “You look dreadful.”
He chuckled. “I feel worse.”
The corner of her mouth twitched, apparently in spite of herself. “Then you shouldn’t be here.”
He should have stepped back, given her space, but his boots seemed planted to the rug.
The faint scent of soap reached him, though he couldn’t tell what kind.
Even so, it felt familiar, disarming. The years fell away and for a moment, they were only Giles and Liss again.
Innocent. Hopeful. Expectant. The world they had once known had changed, yes. But she still made him want.
What would a life with her have looked like if the stars had aligned differently? Could it still look the same? Even if just a little bit?
“I should probably find a bed,” he admitted. “But I can’t seem to move.” He wanted to keep staring at her. Found that despite the past, despite being away for twelve years, he wanted everything. Everything she might not be prepared to give.
And he had no bloody idea what to do about it.
He hadn’t changed.
Much.
That was the most maddening part.
Oh, he looked older, of course, sharper around the jaw, more dangerous around the eyes, but Theodore Giles Bishop still had that same charged intensity about him, the same unreadable steadiness that had once made her feel seen.
Made her feel valued. Her body had reacted before her mind had made sense of it—because it was him.
Older now. Broader. More self-assured.
But she wasn’t that girl anymore.
The girl who had foolishly dreamed of first and last love, happy endings, and forever afters. Giles had taught her this. Taught her what it felt like to dream of the future, and what it cost to lose it.
This woman, this her, could not afford the cost anymore.
Not when so much had happened in between all the years apart.
Not while she stood at the brink of ruin, threatening shame upon her family.
Shame—for her actions—that they did not deserve.
And now here he stood. Whole. Handsome even with the face of a man who wanted to retch.
Still in possession of all the power to sway her.
Honestly, how could this be considered fair? How memory and presence could overlap so cruelly. She had spent years forcing herself to forget him, only for him to step back into her life in such a thorough fashion.
Her throat felt too tight, her spine too stiff.
She didn’t trust herself to respond to his last statement.
Not being able to move? Was he teasing her or being serious?
If the corner of his lips served as an indication, then he was teasing.
If the gathering beads of sweat on his brow were another, then he was more likely serious.
Either way, she was at a loss for words.
And yet, some foolish, forgotten part of her stirred at the prospect of this man teasing her.
It made her furious.
A little terrified.
She couldn’t let either show. Men were like bloodhounds when it came to weakness. Hadn’t she learned that the hardest way for a lady to learn?
Alyssia lifted her chin and made one thing abundantly clear to him. “This will be a marriage of convenience only. If you cannot agree to this condition, then I cannot marry you.”
“Interesting. If I had been someone else, would this still have been the condition?”
“Yes.” She needed this marriage, certainly, but she refused to let any man have the upper hand on her again. “Our former betrothal does not grant you the liberty of resuming matters as though nothing has changed.”
He said nothing, simply watched her with a gaze that made her feel like he could see every piece of herself she tried to keep hidden.
And damn him, she loathed that he could still look at her so.
Like he loved all her good parts and also cherished the bad parts.
A lump rose in her throat, swift and traitorous.
“Understood.”
So easy? So understandable? “I won’t do sentiment,” she said suspiciously. “I came here for a contract, not a reunion.”
“I know,” he said calmly.
Her eyes narrowed on him. “You won’t forget this tomorrow, will you?”
He chuckled, though it sounded more like a groan. “I remember everything you say, Liss.”
Her brows furrowed. Had his sentence dragged a bit at the end? “Very well.”
“Can I ask you what happened to bring you to Dove-Lyon?” he asked softly.
The question startled her. Of course, naturally, he had to be curious.
However, the situation was far from simple.
Especially given the man involved, so she gave only part of the truth, “Some fool tried to entrap me into marriage. My reputation is on the brink of tatters and my sister’s prospects will be under threat if I don’t wed.
It doesn’t matter who I wed, at this point, only that I do. ”
His face turned thunderous. “What about your father?”
She averted her gaze. “News hasn’t reached my parents yet. They’re in the country for my mother’s health.”
“I see.”
Was that a growl? Her eyes narrowed on him. “Just so we are clear, Giles, you don’t have permission to be offended. You haven’t earned the right yet.”
“Noted,” he said hoarsely. “I’ll make sure I earn that right back, then.” He moved then, just a little closer. Not enough to crowd her exactly. Just enough for his presence to be felt more.
That, damn him again, made her chest churn.
She braced. “You should know, I’ve grown used to doing things on my way.”
“I can see that.”
“Then don’t expect me to defer. Or swoon. Or soften.”
His eyes softened. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Good.” Was the man even listening to her? “This arrangement may benefit us both, so do not even think of using your title as husband to own me.”
“Then you can be the one to own me.” His smile was slow. Wicked. “How does that sound?”
She despised the way her stomach flipped. However, she couldn’t deny that the idea of owning Theodore Giles Bishop sounded remarkably tempting. “Do not forget this will be a marriage of convenience. There shall be no ownership involved by either party.”
“A pity.”
“I’m sure you shall manage just fine.”
“Then I’ll settle for protecting your name. I will be your husband in every way that matters to society and only as much as you’ll allow behind closed doors.”
“Agreed.”
“Shall we touch noses upon it?”
Her eyes flew wide. “Absolutely not! We aren’t children anymore!” She barely caught herself from instantly leaning into him upon that question. She straightened her shoulders and stepped back. “It seems you’ve retained some of your childishness.”
He smiled again. “I’ve missed you.”
Blast it all. She would not allow herself to sway!
Despite the frantic beat of her heart, she not prepared to let him near it. She also wasn’t prepared to lose him again either. What an utterly calamitous predicament.
He could not, it seemed, hold on any longer.
“Damn it.” His knees buckled. “Not now.”
He collapsed, crumbling at her feet.
For one suspended heartbeat, she simply stared, uncomprehending, at his slumped form.
“Lawd,” she muttered, voice barely above a whisper. “Good intentions, Giles.” She sighed. “Let us hope they are enough to keep you alive.”
Alyssia stepped over his body and strode from the room.