“But what about her mother?” My gaze flew to Cyrus then back to Viola.
“While the situation is of no concern to you, Mrs. Murphy is aware.”
I narrowed my eyes and gulped wine until my glass was empty.
“That’s enough politics for one night,” Cyrus stated, noticing my growing agitation. “Alice, would you mind refilling our glasses?” He sat back in his chair. “My mother will be retiring.”
“I suppose it is getting late.” Viola stood and left her empty glass behind. “I will see you in the morning for breakfast,” she said, laying a hand on Cyrus’s shoulder as she floated to the towering French doors. “And I expect you, as well, Adora.”
Alice refilled Cyrus’s glass and glared at me with a warning in her eyes as she filled mine—as if she couldn’t believe my outburst. She walked across the room’s threshold, closed the French doors, and left Cyrus and me alone.
It was quiet for a moment as we stared at each other from across the room. His eyes were a shade I’d never seen before. A steel blue.
“This other theory I’ve learned,” Cyrus began, swirling amber liquid in his freshly poured glass, “as to why the fainting couch is indeed called the fainting couch, is for when women with female hysteria lose their minds.” He took another gulp and set his glass down before standing. “Insomnia, sleepwalking, anxiety ... everything you’ve been experiencing lately.” Cyrus crossed the room toward me, pressed slacks hanging off his hips, the top few buttons on his black dress shirt undone, and sleeves rolled to the elbows. “This style was crafted to provide comfort for long periods while performing a pelvic massage. Or, in our case, thrusting my fingers inside you and pulling the crazy out like an orgasmic exorcism.”
My hand flew to my mouth when a laugh belted from my lips.
These were words I’d never heard Cyrus say—a side of him I’d never seen before. “Cyrus, I—” I said on a gasp, but the rest of my sentence stopped short when he laid his hands on my knees and crouched down, laying his gaze upon me.
“I’m not Kane, Adora. I can’t get inside your head and make you do anything. Even if I could, I would never do that to you. I would rather it come naturally.”
My gaze slid between his eyes. “Cyrus, your eyes are almost gray.”
“Because I want to fuck you.”
I blinked. And then I swallowed.
Cyrus’s hands coiled around my calves, and my pulse was racing.
“But there’s other things I want to do to you first,” he said, eyes on me as his heated palms inched up my calf beneath my dress.
“I-I-think you’re drunk,” I tried to get out.
He was so subtly shaking his head, waiting for me to stop him, and I was waiting for him to concede.
“You and I have been blind-drunk alone together many times,” he said. “I know when to control myself. And when to finally let go.”
He’d never touched me like this. He’d never talked to me like this.
Even so, in my mind I could see Ivy, and the crestfallen look on her face.
I could see Stone in the cave.
I could see Stone looking into my eyes.
I could see Stone in the lighthouse window, watching me.
Cyrus reached the sensitive skin of my thighs, and he ran his fingertips higher with a slanted grin. “You’re so stubborn, and you think I’m playing.” His fingers traced the outline of my panties across my skin. His other hand came over my lower back, and he pulled me closer to him, to the edge of the couch. My knees spread on their own as his crouched body came between them. “This is not a game, Adora,” he murmured, dipping a thumb under the hem. My breath cut short when the pad of it grazed me. “I want to take care of my fiancé. I’m afraid your hysteria will bleed into town, and I can’t have people thinking you’re crazy.”
My palms slapped on top of his to stop him.
“I’m not crazy!” My defense exploded out of me.
Standing, I hid my fingers, tucking them into my fists and springing them loose against my chest, unsure if even I believe it.
Cyrus hung his head, his elbow digging into a bent knee. “That came out entirely wrong.” He then looked up at me, lashes so dark it looked like black eyeliner permanently rimmed the cobalt oceans in his eyes. “I’m not the enemy here, Adora. You will be my wife,”he reiterated slowly. “I’m just trying to protect you.”
“By performing an idea introduced in the nineteenth century?” I shook my head in disbelief. “Do you know who I thought about the entire time you were touching me?” His eyes closed, and he exhaled a heavy breath. “Yeah, I thought of Ivy, and it made me sick to my stomach.”
