Chapter 20 #4
“Is that right?” His voice was silky, smooth. “You know, Alina.” He shifted closer still. “You’re very ready to mock others for pursuing something you clearly want as well.”
Hardly seeming aware of her movements, Alina inched backward, her back connecting with the stone wall.
Xavier followed, laying one forearm along the wall above her head. If she wanted to pretend there was nothing real between them—to be treated like any other girl he’d dallied with—then that was what she would get.
“Nothing to say, Alina?” he asked, his voice low. “Does my presence awe you?”
“I don’t know if I’d say awe.” Her voice wasn’t as steady as she was trying to make it seem. “But you certainly have a presence.”
“Always so collected,” he told her, his lips lifting in a lazy smile that was one of his best weapons. “So ready to pretend that you’re happy, no matter how difficult, how lonely, how hopeless your life might be.”
Alina sucked in a sharp breath. Did she think vapid flattery was all he knew how to do? He’d seen a lot more than vanity in his years of studying people. The skill of being able to enthrall or discompose at will required seeing to the heart of what drove people.
Alina lowered her eyes, her impassive confidence finally failing her.
Xavier, still riding his reprehensible determination to treat her like he would any simpering admirer, was quick to take the opening.
He employed the same tactic he’d used with Lady Helena, reaching up a hand to tilt her chin back up.
“Stop looking at me like that,” she said, the words a little breathless.
“Like what?” he asked smoothly.
“Like you’re about to tell me I’m a coward.”
That breached his defenses for a moment, the glib words that had been on his tongue melting away. His eyes searched hers, their proximity suddenly much more charged. Still, he didn’t move to give her space.
“Pretending to be happy doesn’t solve anything,” he told her. “I should know.”
“I’m not pretending to be happy.” There was some spirit in her words, but it didn’t have its usual impact. Not when her eyes were locked on his like she couldn’t look away if her life depended on it. “I’m choosing to be happy.”
He lowered his head, bringing his lips close to her ears. “I don’t believe you.”
Alina’s eyes squeezed shut, her breath quickening. “You don’t have to believe me,” she said resolutely. “Choosing to be content is better than dwelling on my losses, my grief…my regrets.”
Regrets? Xavier’s heart picked up speed a little. What exactly did she regret? Walking away from him?
“You’re not the only one with regrets,” he murmured.
He was rapidly losing hold of his role, the whole thing becoming too real. His eyes dropped to Alina’s lips, no smooth words to be found. Her face was turned up to his, the distance closing.
Abruptly, Alina ducked out from under his arm, stepping to the side and pasting on a humorous smile which made Xavier feel as sick as if he’d been hit by basilisk magic.
“Point proven,” she said lightly. “I was wrong to accuse you of failing to live up to expectations. You’re masterful.
Exceeding expectations, in fact.” She smoothed her skirts.
“I don’t think we should go to the effort of a trip to the waterfall, do you?
I know it’s a romantic setting, but you can’t improve on the performance you’ve already given, so there’s really no need. ”
With a bright smile that speared straight through Xavier’s heart, she turned away, her skirts swishing around her as she hurried back the way they’d come.
He stayed where he was, his arm still resting on the wall, trying to still the turmoil within him. He lowered his forehead to the stone, letting the cold seep in.
Why had he done that? Why had he made himself a fool in her eyes all over again?
He’d told himself since their night in the desert that his campaign to charm her was on hold.
It was time to let go of that self-deception.
Any desire to get under her skin so as to make her regret what she’d lost was permanently dead.
The stakes were much higher now—he was playing for his life.
But being sincere wasn’t getting him anywhere, either. At least when he was flirting with her, she enjoyed his company. Any sign of something real, and she ran from him.
He didn’t know what to do, and he hated the feeling.
Since Alina’s rejection of him all those years ago, not even for a fraction of a second had his heart been at risk of being wounded by any girl.
He’d made sure of it. He’d become a master of the art of flirtation, and a master is always in control.
He’d never been at someone else’s mercy…
until now. If he was truly honest, his heart had been raw and exposed since the moment he’d seen Alina in that dressmaker’s shop, and it was terrifying.
He hadn’t known what to do other than play the game he’d become so good at, to try to convince himself that he was still in control.
But it wasn’t a game anymore.
And when it came to Alina, he was less in control than he’d ever been.