Chapter 25 #2
“I am a practical man, Seraphina,” he said. “I live my life by hard, unyielding parameters. Men in my position, men who navigate the viper’s nest of political society, survive by anticipating risks. I am not a man who acts on impulse, nor am I a man who tolerates variables he cannot control.”
He stood up, his frame towering over the desk, casting a shadow across the floor.
“People think twice before crossing me. They calculate their words around me. But ever since you walked into this house, the dynamic has shifted into something I do not recognize. I find myself distracted. I would really hate to give you a false notion of what this is.”
He stepped around the desk. “I like it less when I cannot read the person sitting across from me. I prefer clarity. You did not give me that clarity at the ball.”
Seraphina took a deep breath, willing her hands to stop shaking. She forced herself to stand her ground as he approached.
“Fine,” she said. “If clarity is what you require, then let me give it to you clearly. I can see your point. You are protective of your boundaries, and you fear that emotional entanglements will complicate our ultimate goal. That is fair.”
She looked him dead in the eye, trying to project absolute confidence.
“So let me reassure you, Your Grace, it is entirely harmless if I happen to find you handsome. I am human. I have eyes. But you can rest completely assured that it will never pose a problem to our agreement. When the time comes for the blackmail to be resolved, and for us to seek our annulment, I will walk away without a single tear, a single protest, or a single pathetic plea for you to keep me. You will not have a swooning, heartbroken woman on your hands.”
As the words left her mouth, a strange, hollow ache echoed in her chest. A whisper inside her mind asked if she was truly as prepared to walk away as she claimed to be, knowing the question she had left unanswered with Alice. But she crushed the thought instantly.
William stopped a few paces away from her. His eyes searched her face.
“You speak with incredible certainty for someone who is contradicting herself with every breath,” he said softly.
“I am doing no such thing!” she countered. “Why do you think you know it all? That you know what I am feeling? It is frustrating.”
“You frustrate me!” he said. “You stand there and tell me you find me attractive, you admit without hesitation that you are drawn to me, yet in the very same breath, you claim it means absolutely nothing,” he said, stepping closer still.
“You offer direct confessions wrapped in academic detachment, and you expect me to sit back and accept that those two realities can comfortably coexist. It is confusing. It is contradictory, and frankly, Seraphina, it frustrates me to no end.”
“There is no contradiction whatsoever!” Seraphina insisted, holding her chin high.
“Attraction is a physical sensation. Affection and commitment are choices of the mind. Why are you making such a tragedy out of this? We have talking about this for weeks now, it is driving me mad. I am telling you that I am in complete control of myself. Why can you not simply take my word for it and cross that bridge when we come to it?”
“Because I do not leave the stability of my life to chance,” he growled lightly.
“Well, what about you?” she fired back, her frustration boiling over. “Why is this entire interrogation focused exclusively on me? Why are my theoretical feelings the primary threat here? What about your own line in the sand?”
“Because I know how to draw a line,” William answered instantly. “I have drawn my line, Seraphina. I simply need to ensure you are standing on the same side of it.”
“Why do you assume I am incapable of doing the exact same thing?” she demanded, stepping directly into his personal space, her pride blinding her to the danger of their proximity.
“Is it because I am a woman? Do you believe my mind is so fragile, so governed by hysteria and romantic sentiment, that I cannot enjoy an intellectual and physical appreciation of a man without losing my senses? If I tell you I can draw the line, why is my word not enough for you?”
William stared down at her, his eyes ablaze with a scorching intensity that made the air between them crackle.
“Because words are cheap...” he whispered, taking one final step forward until he was standing directly in front of her. “...And I do not trust them.”
“Then what would it take?” she challenged, her voice trembling slightly despite her best efforts.
“What ridiculous task must I perform to satisfy your relentless skepticism? Do you want me to sign a legal affidavit? Jump off the balcony? Name it, William. Name it, and I will do it just to prove how entirely wrong you are.”
William stared down at her mouth, his chest rising and falling in short breaths.
“Kiss me,” he said.
Seraphina’s eyes widened. Her heart gave a violent thud against her chest. “What?”
“You heard me,” he rasped. “You want to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that you feel nothing for me? That this is all just empty attraction, and meaningless biology? Then kiss me, Seraphina. Kiss me, and feel nothing.”
A wave of heat rushed to her face, painting her cheeks a fiery crimson.
Her pulse roared in her ears, so loud it threatened to drown out the crackle of the fireplace.
He had backed her up slightly, her skirts brushing against the edge of a side table, trapped between the solid wall of his chest and the furniture behind her.
Her mind scrambled wildly.
He is bluffing. He is trying to force me to back down.
‘Fine,’ her pride screamed back. ‘Let him see. Just do it and get it over with. End this ridiculous argument once and for all.’
“Fine,” she breathed, her voice barely a whisper.
Seraphina shut her eyes tight. Reaching up, she grabbed both sides of his face with her hands, leaned up on her tiptoes, and slammed her lips against his in a brief, hard, terrible kiss.
It lasted less than two seconds.
She immediately snapped her head back, stepping down, her heart thrashing wildly against her chest. Her face was burning, her breathing ragged, but she forced a triumphant, defiant glare onto her face.
“There,” she panted. “See? Nothing. Absolute —”
William looked down at her lips. Then his eyes flicked up to meet hers, dark and completely unimpressed. He let his gaze slide down to the frantic rise and fall of her chest, before settling back on her eyes.
“That...” he murmured softly. “...was not a kiss.”
“I did precisely what you asked. I am tired of these endless, arrogant games —”
Before she could finish her sentence, William moved.
His hand shot out, wrapping securely around her waist, while his other hand slid up the back of her neck, his fingers threading deep into the soft hair at the nape of her head. With effortless strength, he pulled her flush against his body.
“This...” he whispered against her skin. “...is a kiss.”
Then, his mouth came down on hers.
Any lingering thought of logic, reason, or detachment shattered into a million invisible pieces.
His kiss was a fierce, commanding, overwhelmingly passionate collision that swept through Seraphina’s entire nervous system like wildfire.
His grip on her waist tightened, pulling her so close she could feel the beating of his own heart against her chest. His hand at the back of her head anchored her to him, his fingers digging gently into her hair, holding her right where he wanted her.
A soft, helpless sound escaped the back of Seraphina’s throat as his lips parted hers, taking the kiss deeper.
The sensation was so intoxicating, it made her knees feel entirely like water.
Instinct took over, completely overwhelming her intellect.
Her hands, which had been meant to push him away, instead flew to the lapels of his shirt, gripping the fabric for dear life as if he were the only grounded object in a world spinning rapidly off its axis.
He shifted his weight, walking her backward with slow steps until her back bumped softly against the wall. His hand shifted to cushion the back of her head against the hard surface, protecting her even in the midst of his absolute storm.
There was a contrast to it. The chill of the wall at her back, the searing, magnificent heat of his body pressed against hers, sent a shiver cascading down her spine.
Her senses were completely overwhelmed. She tasted the rich smokiness of his drink, heard the low, ragged breath he drew as she began to kiss him back, abandoning all pretense of restraint.
It was a fire, wild and uncontained, consuming every rational thought she had ever possessed.
It opened up a vast, terrifying abyss of curiosity within her, a hunger not for books, or theories, or knowledge, but for...
him. For the touch of his hands, the weight of his body, the feeling of his lips on hers.
The sensation built and built, a tight, electric coil winding in the center of her chest until her entire body began to tremble.
Panicked by the overwhelming intensity, Seraphina forced her hands flat against his chest, pushing against him with all the strength she possessed.
“William...” she managed to gasp out against his lips.
William paused instantly.
He didn’t pull away far. His hand slid from the back of her head down to her chin, his thumb gently holding her face in place.
As she pulled her head back, his tongue lightly grazed the curve of her bottom lip, a final, agonizingly sweet contact that sent a fresh wave of butterflies frantic in her stomach.
He stayed right there, hovering inches above her, his eyes staring intently down at her parted lips.
Seraphina ducked under his arm, stepping swiftly to the side to put physical distance between them. She backed away until the far side of the desk blocked him from her path, her hands coming up to cover her chest as she drew in gulps of air.