He knew he’d stoked her anger when her eyes glowed like golden lanterns. ‘Pay attention, Grey. I don’t make assumptions without evidence. And the evidence about you puzzles me exceedingly. Your actions do not match your reputation. A selfish lord who abandons his wife but dotes on his sister. A renowned rake who is rumoured to have endless paramours, but damns himself for stealing kisses from a common girl? The pieces don’t add up. Who is the real Thomas Grey?’ She had masterfully twisted the conversationfrom focusing on her being a witch to him being a libertine. Not that it mattered, as both were true.
His mind snagged on the way she described herself. A ‘common girl’. Nothing about her was common. She was the most extraordinary woman he’d ever known. And he wanted to prove he was worthy of her. Worse, she was giving him a chance to do just that. Which meant she might see something of worth within him.
But that is a lie. Which is why I can’t do this. She needs to leave.
Pushing her away was the last thing he wanted. And the one thing he needed to do.
She wanted to make a logical decision based on reason and fact. Thomas could give her reasons and facts that would prove he was the last man she should be meeting in libraries at three in the morning. What had he been thinking? He allowed himself to be swept away, but no more. Providing Clio the evidence she demanded was the fastest way to ensure she walked away from him. And the fastest way to remind himself he deserved to be alone.
‘Perhaps I can shed some light on the matter. Provide you with enough facts to reach a decisive conclusion.’ He leaned closer. Drawn to her even as he knew she would consume him. ‘I fucked any willing woman.’
He threw the words like daggers. But she didn’t pull away. She wasn’t disgusted. Quite the opposite, in fact. His coarse language caused an entirely different reaction. A million gossamer threads of energy connecting them suddenly tightened.
Clio’s chest rose and fell in shallow inhalations as rosemary and bergamot infiltrated his senses. Dark nipples peaked against her thin cotton nightgown. She wasn’t afraid. She was aroused.
Not the reaction I needed. Let me try again.
Thomas went further. Testing her. Testing himself. He backed her against the wall, placing his hand over her shoulder and leaning down to whisper in her ear, his voice a rough rasp in thedark room where only the crack and pop of the now-blazing fire punctuated his words.
‘I spread a widow’s thighs in the middle of a masked ball.’
She hissed air between her teeth.
‘A celebrated soprano begged me to turn her bottom red with my bare hand.’
A barely audible moan.
‘The bordello beauties took turns letting me tie them up until their needs twisted into my own.’ Her hair tickled the tip of his nose as he inhaled her like opium. ‘Bored wives. Sophisticated debutantes. Talented actresses. If they wanted me, they could have me.’
Her body tensed. Not in fear, not in preparation for escape. But in anticipation.
‘There is your evidence. I am the worst of men.’ Sparks sizzled along her exposed skin, washing up her throat like a blush, hot sparkles kissing his jaw and lips.
Whatever incendiary magic smouldered between them wasn’t his imagination. She was the cause. Her mysteries intoxicated him.
‘Do I not disgust you, Clio?’
She swallowed and slowly shook her head.
Fine. He would try a different approach. ‘Did you choose to be a witch?’
A wrinkle formed between her brow at the abrupt change in topic. She shook her head. ‘Of course not. It’s not something one chooses.’
He couldn’t stop the small smile. ‘Ah.’
Fury flared in her golden gaze. He’d tricked her into admitting her secret. Which she hated. Which was the point.
Instead of backpedalling, she jutted her chin out, defiance in her eyes. ‘Fine. I’m a witch.’
‘I know.’
Pressing a hand against his chest, he thought she would shovehim away, but she kept it there, splayed over his heart. He could feel each finger like an individual brand, burning into him, leaving an indelible mark. ‘What will you do with my secret, Grey?’
‘Protect it. Protect you.’ He gave the answer before he considered what it meant. Before he could think of a response. Because it was the only answer to give. Ensuring her safety was the only thing that mattered. Even if he must protect her from himself.
She shook her head, not ready to believe him. Grand. Her mistrust would help his cause and keep her at arm’s length. Because if he pulled her closer, he would not be able to let go. And that was a fate no woman deserved. Certainly not one as important as Clio.
‘Men say all manner of things. But they don’t mean them.’
