Chapter 8
Eight
Vivy was livid. There was no other word for it.
After Dash had kissed her, she had thought the best possible thing had happened.
Until he opened his mouth and ruined the moment.
Now she sat alone in the sitting room at his house and stewed in her misery.
It was the same quiet country house with its discreet halls and paneled walls when she first arrived.
The servants were well disciplined and appeared and vanished like well-trained ghosts.
Everything remained the same. Except her.
Everything inside of Vivy had been altered—as if the kiss had shifted something fundamental in her, turning her bones to flame and her blood to restless light. Hours had passed since Dash had pressed his mouth to hers.
Hours, and she could still feel it. The first startled press of his mouth over hers and the way his restraint had splintered.
Then the heat that had followed…. She had given herself to that kiss with a helpless, aching honesty—because she had loved him for years, quietly, foolishly and faithfully.
She had imagined him in stolen moments and half-shut dreams, never daring to believe she would know the reality of him.
Never daring to believe he might ever look at her with the same unrelenting hunger that she too experienced.
He had kissed her as if he could not breathe without her. Then he had lifted his head and said, with that hard mask of composure he wore so effortlessly said…this changes nothing.
It was a lie, and if Vivy had learned anything tonight, it was that lies—however carefully spoken—could cut one to the quick. For her, that kiss had changed everything. He may have said those words after, but he was wrong. Either he lied to himself or he lied to her…perhaps both.
She paced the small sitting room off the study, trying to find composure and a sense of calm. She was still struggling with it all and still she could not find reason. She stared at the fire that had been lit at some point and became lost in its gentle warmth. Even that did not soothe her at all.
Desire, once awakened, was not easily ignored. She could still taste him. Still feel the imprint of his hands at her waist and hear the roughness in his breath when he’d pulled away. She could not, would not, pretend it meant nothing simply because he wished it so.
The door opened with soft efficiency. Dash stepped into the room. He had removed his coat, and his cravat had been loosened a fraction. He looked composed again, as if he had locked their shared moment away and returned to duty.
That alone ignited her.
He paused when he saw her standing there, the candlelight caught in his hazel eyes making them more gold than green. “You should be resting,” he said in a calm tone. As if he were speaking to a reasonable woman who had not just had her entire life rearranged by a single kiss.
Vivy did not curtsy and she certainly did not smile. She did not soften her voice to make him feel at ease. Not with the raging fury nearly pouring off of her. “We agreed not to lie to one another,” she said abruptly.
Dash went very still. “What?” he asked, as if he had not heard her properly.
“We agreed,” Vivy repeated, refusing to give him room to evade it, “not to lie to each other.”
A flicker of surprise filled his gaze, but then it was quickly replaced with wariness. Clearly, he had not expected her remind to him of their agreement. “We did,” he said carefully.
Vivy’s heart pounded. “Then why did you break that vow mere minutes after we made it?”
His gaze sharpened. “I have not…”
“You did.” Vivy stepped closer, the words spilling with a fierce clarity she had never allowed herself before. “You kissed me, and then you told me it changed nothing.”
Dash’s jaw tightened. “Vivy…”
“No.” The single syllable came out sharp enough to cut.
“Do not attempt to charm me. Now we both know the truth.” He met her gaze and frowned.
It bothered him that she had called him a liar.
Well, that was too bad. Because he had not told her the truth and she would not allow him to ignore her.
“You kissed me,” Vivy said, her voice trembling.
Not with fear but with feelings she could barely contain, “as if it meant everything.”
Dash’s breathing changed. Just slightly. A tell she would have missed once, but she was coming to know him. Vivy pressed on. “You cannot look at me like that, hold me as you did and kiss me with such desperation, and then tell me it meant nothing.”
Silence stretched between them, thick as velvet, and Vivy’s throat tightened with pent up emotions. He did not deny it and that was answer enough.
Her courage surged—reckless and filled with righteous indignation. “Prove it,” she demanded.
Dash lowered his brows as confusion filled his gaze. “Prove what?”
“That it meant nothing.” Vivy’s cheeks burned, but she did not care. She had crossed the threshold and there was no retreating now. “Kiss me again.”
Dash’s eyes widened a fraction. “Vivy…”
“Kiss me,” she insisted, stepping closer until she was within reach.
“If it was nothing, then it will be easy. You will do it and feel nothing. You will walk away and your precious control will remain intact.” His gaze dropped, briefly, to her mouth.
Vivy’s breath hitched, hope and heat tangled together.
“If it truly meant nothing,” she said, her voice lower now, almost shaking with her own need, “then prove it.”
She did not give him time to answer. She moved to him, swift, desperate, and fearless and fisted her hands in the front of his waistcoat as if she might drag the truth out of him by force. “Kiss me again,” she said, eyes blazing. “Or admit you lied.”
Dash had known or at least he should have known that she would not let it go.
Vivy was not a girl who accepted half-truths simply because a man spoke them with authority.
She was too astute, too stubborn, and too full of life.
She had questioned him all the way into danger and she would certainly not allow him to retreat behind a lie meant to protect them both.
The worst of it, damnation, was that she was right. He had kissed her as though he could not breathe without her. Dash had kissed her as though every mile he had ever walked through enemy streets had led him straight to this moment—to her. He had kissed her like a man starving.
Then he had told her it changed nothing, because that was what he had trained himself to do. It had always been far better to deny the dangerous truth before it could be used against him. But Vivy had taken one look at him and seen through his carefully built defenses.
Now she stood before him with her hands fisted in his waistcoat, demanding a second kiss like a challenge thrown at his feet.
Kiss her again…as if it were a simple thing.
Kissing her would undo him entirely, and she must have realized that.
Dash caught her wrists gently in his grasp…
firm enough to stop her from tugging but careful enough not to hurt her.
“You are provoking me,” he said in a quiet tone.
Vivy narrowed her gaze and said, “No. I am demanding honesty.”
“That is not the same thing.” He sounded like the fool he was but still he persisted.
“It is,” she shot back. “Because in this one instance our kiss is what you lied about. So, this is your way to show me I am wrong.” She tilted her head to the side. “Am I wrong, Dash?”
Dash’s jaw clenched. “You do not understand what you are asking.”
“I understand perfectly.” Her voice softened, but her eyes did not. “You kissed me like it mattered and then you tried to pretend it did not.”
Dash’s grip tightened a fraction at her wrists, and he hated himself for it. He hated how much he wanted to pull her into him again. How easily her scent, clean soap and faint rosewater, made the memory of her mouth on his feel like a wound. One he could heal by simply giving in to her demands.
“This is not…” he began.
“A game?” she cut in her breath quickening with each word she uttered. “No, it is not. You do not get to make me feel like a fool because you regret losing control.”
Regret…the word struck. Because he did not regret the kiss. He regretted what it meant. He looked down at her—at the flush in her cheeks, the fierce hope in her eyes, and the unshakable courage that would get her killed if he did not handle this with care.
“You should hate me for it,” Dash said roughly.
Vivy’s brows knit. “For what?”
“For bringing you into this,” he snapped. “For allowing danger into your life.”
Her mouth parted, then closed as fury rose. “You did not allow anything,” she hissed. “I was involved before you walked into my life again. Do not forget that note found its way into my reticule hours before we danced at the ball. This danger would have been something far worse if not for you.”
Dash frowned. “You don’t know…” But then he considered what she had said. “They would have left you alone once they realized you didn’t know anything.”
“You keep telling yourself that.” She shook her head. “Go ahead and lie to me and yourself again. You are quite good at it.”
“I am not lying to you,” he said in a harsh tone. “That kiss was a mistake.”
“Then perhaps you should not have kissed me like I was the only thing you had ever wanted.”
Dash’s chest tightened so sharply it almost hurt.
He released her wrists, because if he held her any longer, he would drag her into him and lose the last shred of restraint he possessed.
But Vivy did not move away. She stood there, close enough that he could feel the heat of her, and his body remembered everything from that kiss.
“I am not asking you to promise me the world,” she said, her voice just above a whisper. “I am asking you not to lie to me.”
Dash stared at her. He had faced men with guns and blades.
He had faced betrayal and blood and the sort of fear that settled into the soul.
Nothing had ever unsettled him quite like this woman standing before him demanding truth.
He forced himself to speak carefully, as if careful words might help him keep himself in check.
“If I kiss you again, Vivy… It will not go as you think.”
Her brows rose. “What, pray tell, do you think I expect?”
“That I will not be the same man before you,” he said, voice edged. “That another kiss will have me begging for more.”
“I would not say no if you wanted more, Dash.” She took another step forward.
“I promised I would not lie to you.” She narrowed her gaze.
“Unlike you, I keep my promises and my oaths.” She tilted her head to the side.
“But if you kiss me again, and you truly do not want me I will respect it. This isn’t about my desires.
It’s about the truth and we both know that you have dishonored that vow you made to me. ”
Despite himself, something like a bitter laugh scraped out of him. “I never claimed to be honorable.”
“That is true,” Vivy stepped closer, her gaze unwavering. “But all I want is for you to stop pretending you are untouched by what happened between us.”
Dash drew in a breath and he knew. He could not avoid what she demanded.
Not when every part of him wanted exactly what she did.
She had challenged him with the one thing he could not deny…
the truth of his desire. “Fine,” he said, his voice rough and filled with surrender edged with his stubborn pride. “You want another kiss?”
“Yes.” Her breath hitched in her throat as she uttered that one word.
“Then you will have it,” he said, the words were like a vow and a warning both. “But do not mistake my weakness for your victory.”
Vivy’s chin lifted. “I would never mistake you for weak.”
That broke what remained of his control. Dash surged forward and slid one hand to her waist, and he pulled her flush against him with an urgency he could no longer hide. He used his other hand to frame her jaw in his palm and tilted her face up.
Then he kissed her.
Her lips parted beneath his with a soft sound that went straight through him. Heat flooded him, deep and relentless, and for one wild moment he forgot everything. Everything disappeared except his fierce, impossible need to keep her close.
Vivy’s fingers curled into his coat, holding him as if she feared he might vanish.
Dash tightened his hold as he groaned. The kiss turned hungry and heated.
They were two people colliding with years of restraint and longing.
When he finally broke away, only because he had to breathe, he rested his forehead against hers and drew in a ragged breath.
“There,” he rasped. “Are you satisfied?”
Vivy’s smile was breathless and triumphant and entirely unrepentant. “No,” she whispered. “But I am convinced.”
Dash closed his eyes. Because he was convinced too.
Now he would have to survive the consequences of wanting her as much as he did.
Because he had proven her point and they both knew it.
He could not resist her, and he needed her more than anything.
He was done denying it to her and himself.
When it was all done, he would claim her in truth and make her his.
He did not want to live without her. But that was a discussion for another day.
Though he could not help thinking she would never truly be safe as long as she was in his life…