Chapter 13 #2
Fury flared in her golden gaze. He’d tricked her into admitting her secret. Which she hated. Which was the point.
Instead of backpedalling, she jutted her chin out, defiance in her eyes. ‘Fine. I’m a witch.’
‘I know.’
Pressing a hand against his chest, he thought she would shove him away, but she kept it there, splayed over his heart. He could feel each finger like an individual brand, burning into him, leaving an indelible mark. ‘What will you do with my secret, Grey?’
‘Protect it. Protect you.’ He gave the answer before he considered what it meant. Before he could think of a response. Because it was the only answer to give. Ensuring her safety was the only thing that mattered. Even if he must protect her from himself.
She shook her head, not ready to believe him. Grand. Her mistrust would help his cause and keep her at arm’s length. Because if he pulled her closer, he would not be able to let go. And that was a fate no woman deserved. Certainly not one as important as Clio.
‘Men say all manner of things. But they don’t mean them.’
‘I mean this: you are a miracle, not a monster. You did not choose to be a witch, but I chose to be a faithless bastard. Of the two, I am far more evil than you, Clio. I am everything you’ve heard and worse. I will burn in the fires of hell for my sins.’
‘What if I want to burn with you?’ Her words were air on coals, breathing heat into his already blazing arousal and destroying his reason. No matter what his goal, she seemed determined to work against him. Only in this, a hopelessly optimistic part of himself was thrilled.
Because what if. What if we burned together?
The idea was impossible to dismiss even when he knew one taste of Clio would never be enough.
She was innocent and inexperienced, but she also knew what she wanted and wasn’t shy about voicing those desires.
Lissa hid her hatred of Thomas for so long, when he finally realised she despised him, he couldn’t argue.
He hated himself just as vehemently. But Clio wore her feelings for Thomas on her leather sleeve.
Her disdain and desire were as bright and contradictory as her colourful dresses.
It was refreshing. He knew exactly where he stood with her.
And he wanted her. More desperately than any other woman.
She doesn’t really want me. Only the fire between us. Which means I can’t hurt her by having nothing more to give than this.
He was playing a dangerous game. Justifying what he wanted against what he knew he should do. An honourable man would walk away. But Sir Robin was right; he was a bastard. If he was destined to spend eternity in hell, he might as well enjoy the heat.
‘Be careful what you ask for. Some deals, once struck, can’t be taken back. Are you sure you want to take this path?’
Do you want me? Even if it is only for this moment?
She bit her lip, and his already swollen cock turned granite. ‘Yes. I mean, perhaps. It depends.’
For a woman who fearlessly leapt when others might flee, he found her hesitation desperately sweet. ‘On what?’
‘What do you expect?’
To walk away from this irrevocably altered. To fall deeper than I want and not nearly far enough. To become bewitched by a sorceress and hope the spell is never broken.
‘Just this. Here. Now. You control where we go. When it’s over, it’s over.’ I don’t think this will ever be over for me. But he told her what she wanted to hear, because he couldn’t tell her the truth.
Clio swallowed. Her bruised throat contracted, reminding Thomas of all she had faced this evening. All he still did not know. But he would find out. Whoever had attacked his wicked witch would pay. He was going to hunt down the enigma and wreak holy hell. Later. First, he was going to seduce Clio.
‘What if I don’t want to control where we go? What if I’m tired of always being in control?’ She looked away from him, her gaze drawn to the windows at his back where the reflection of the flames danced in the glass. ‘What if I want someone else to lead?’
It was a staggering admission. For her to admit such a shocking desire. And it cost her. He knew by the way her body trembled.
She is bewitching me. Each word from her mouth a spell binding me to her. And I am longing to be entranced. She is far more dangerous than I ever guessed. And me, the fool who always loved a bit of danger.
Damnation.
Dear goddess. What have I done?
It must have been the interaction with Viscount Beachley. Clio was still shaken. Perhaps the spectre had stolen her wits entirely.
She didn’t think the ghost wanted to hurt her.
Indeed, she wasn’t even sure he saw Clio when he wrapped his hand around her throat.
He had been attacking his murderer. But it didn’t stop the violence from shaking her to the core.
Whatever Viscount Beachley faced in his final moments, Clio did not envy him.
And she was more determined than ever to help him.
The whole encounter had been disastrous.
Then the worst had happened. Grey saw her.
He knew the truth.
But instead of reacting the way she expected, hurling accusations, condemning her, holding her to the flame, he’d stepped into the blaze himself and admitted his own damning secrets. It was unaccountable.
‘You are a miracle, not a monster.’
Words Clio never expected to hear, and certainly not from Lieutenant General Grey.
The rest of what he shared, the things he had done with other women, was as illuminating as it was incendiary. She wanted to understand the why. But the what had stolen her reason. The images he conjured! She nearly swooned. And Clio never swooned.
In any of the silly discussions she had with Ellie and Helena about potential romantic entailments, Ellie spoke of everlasting love. Helena wanted anonymous, passionate liaisons. And Clio imagined a simple man she could instruct based on her own explorations and then discard with little fuss.
But there was nothing simple about Grey. She couldn’t possibly instruct him. The man was a bloody expert in an area she had almost no knowledge. And she certainly couldn’t discard him without a great deal of fuss. Not after the things he’d seen. And the things he’d said.
Sweet goddess!
It awakened a need in her. To let go of everything. To let someone else – Grey – take responsibility for something she had given far too little time to in her life: pleasure. What a wondrous and terrifying thought.
While her magic was empowering, it also isolated her from anyone outside her family.
Taking on the investigation was fascinating, but she bore the duty of helping poor Viscount Beachley find peace.
Every person, living and dead, who needed something from her was a precious burden, and the weight sometimes overwhelmed.
The constant pressure to keep her most authentic self hidden.
Always wielding her shield against anyone who dared come close.
It was exhausting. She wanted to burn everything away until nothing remained.
Except sensation. Simple, hot, clean need that she didn’t have to think about or control. Only experience.
But to admit such dark desires to Grey – a man who could so easily overpower her if she gave him an opportunity – was madness.
A madness I wish to welcome. Just for one night.
And why not? She did not risk her heart with him. She would not lose any part of herself if she indulged in one night of lust.
But what if my fire burns him? I lose all control when he touches me. He might not harm me, but what if I hurt him?
Sparks had covered them both, but he hadn’t experienced any burns. It was unaccountable, but somehow he was as immune to her witchfire as she was herself. Something she would have to ponder. Later.
She held no allusions as to his desires. He wanted her physically, but he would never ask more than that. And if he did, she would refuse.
Liar.
The sharp whisper almost convinced her to step back. Step away. Escape to the safety and solitude of her room. Almost.
But she didn’t want to be alone. And if she did not indulge in this hunger now, then when?
This man had seen her wielding her craft, and he hadn’t run.
He hadn’t shouted accusations or threats.
He had offered instead a piece of his own darkness.
And for the first time in her twenty-five years, she wanted someone. She wanted Thomas Grey.
She gathered her courage and forced herself to look at him. His brooding beauty nearly levelled her. But she was made of sterner stuff. Aunt Rowan didn’t teach her the skills of sorcery and witchcraft, passed on by generations of women, to have Clio tremble in the face of a green-eyed devil.
He watched her carefully. ‘I won’t claim to know you well, but I do know you are loath to surrender your power in any situation.’
That was true. But what might happen if she did? The thought was equal parts tantalising and terrifying.
‘I’m loath to suffer fools, and in my experience, most men fall into that category.
But you are a most unusual man.’ That was putting things mildly.
No other man haunted her visions. At least, no living man.
And he was certainly the only person to inspire such an acute ache within her.
‘Could you handle the flame of my desire, Grey? If I gave you temporary control of what happens tonight, and only tonight?’ It was a dangerous proposition, but Clio suspected he was the one man who could stand in her fire and not turn to ash.
He lifted his large hand and traced a rough finger from the middle of her forehead, along her hairline, following the edge of her jaw until he held her chin, tipping her head up, making it impossible to look away. ‘What exactly do you wish to happen tonight?’
A blush washed over her, painting her skin a deep rose. Because something he confessed had sparked an image in her mind. A desire she’d never imagined until he gave it life. But how to tell him? She shrugged.
Thomas tsked, shaking his head. ‘That won’t do. For a woman who doesn’t like people to assume, if you want me to form an accurate conclusion, you must explain the facts to me, Clio. Details are so important, didn’t you say?’
He was provoking her on purpose. The anger helped, damn him. ‘You are capable of listening? Astonishing.’
‘You’ll find I’m capable of a great many things.’
She narrowed her gaze. ‘Actions speak louder than words, Grey.’
‘And what actions would you like me to take, Clio?’
She swallowed, suddenly nervous. She had never let fear stop her in the past. She wasn’t about to start now. ‘You spoke of tying women.’ As soon as she said the words, embarrassment threatened to eclipse her burgeoning desire. But then his eyes flared, and every line of his body somehow hardened.
He put his other hand on the wall, caging her body.
‘Dear God, you will be the death of me. Yes. I tied women.’ His voice lowered to a rumble. ‘Would you like me to tie you? Do you wish to be bound and helpless?’
‘I am never helpless.’ She thrust out her chin, daring him to contradict her.
‘Not even to your desires?’ He tilted his head, his eyes dipping to the swell of her breasts. She felt his gaze like a brand.
‘You are not a nice man, Thomas Grey.’
‘You don’t want a nice man, Clio Blair. But tell me what you do want. To submit to the pleasure I bring you? Because I will bring you pleasure. I swear it.’
And he kept his promises.
All of the air was sucked from the room. She felt hot in the oddest places. The back of her neck. The crease of her thigh. The base of her spine.
‘Yes,’ she managed.