“Liar.” His mouth curved in that predatory smile that made her pulse race. “Try again.”
Stop challenging me. Stop making me think about impossible things.
“I want you to stop interrogating me like I’m some sort of criminal.”
“Better. But still not the truth.” He leaned closer, close enough that she could feel his breath against her cheek. “What do youwant, Sybil?”
“I want…” She started then stopped, color flooding her cheeks.
“Yes?”
I can’t. I can’t say it out loud.
“I want you to stop playing games with me,” she said finally.
“Games?” Hugo’s hand came up to cup her face, his thumb tracing the curve of her cheek with devastating gentleness. “This isn’t a game, Sybil. This is the most serious thing that’s ever happened to me.”
The most serious thing. What does that mean?
“Hugo—”
“I know you’re afraid,” he said quietly. “I know you think wanting something for yourself is selfish or dangerous or both.But I also know that last night, before that tea table intervened, you wanted me to kiss you as much as I wanted to kiss you.”
“That doesn’t mean it was wise.”
“Wisdom is overrated.” His thumb brushed across her lower lip, sending fire racing through her veins. “Besides, where’s the woman who risked everything to save children from a burning building? Where’s the woman who married a stranger to protect people she loved?”
“That was different.”
“How?”
“Because…” She struggled to find words that would explain the difference between risking her life for others and risking her heart for herself. “Because those risks were worth taking.”
“And this isn’t?”
This. Whatever this is between us.
“I don’t know,” she whispered.
“Then let’s find out.” Hugo leaned closer, close enough that their lips were almost touching. “Let’s stop running from this and see what happens if we’re brave enough to want it.”
Brave enough to want it. But what if I want it, and he doesn’t? What if this is just physical attraction that fades once the novelty wears off?
But before she could voice her fears, before she could think of another reason to retreat, Hugo’s lips were on hers.
And suddenly, nothing else mattered.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Hugo found it impossible to concentrate on the tedious drama unfolding on stage when all he could think about was the way Sybil had kissed him a couple of days ago.
Beside him in the theater box, Sybil sat with her hands folded in her lap, but he caught her stealing glances at him when she thought he wasn’t looking. Every time their eyes met, a faint blush colored her cheeks, and she would quickly look away. She was unusually quiet tonight as she had been avoiding him ever since their kiss.
Everything has changed between us. And we’re both pretending to watch this dreadful play instead of acknowledging it.
He shifted in his seat for what felt like the hundredth time, the red velvet upholstery of the theater box suddenly feeling like the most uncomfortable surface in all of London.
When will this infernal play end?
