When they parted from the kiss, she stuck out her lip playfully. “So unfair, Vaughn. So afraid to lose control?”
“Little minx,” he purred as he unfastened one of those remarkable hidden fasteners that made her dress slide away so easily. “You think you have control? No, no, you were always mine for the taking.”
To prove that, he caught the loose fabric of her gown and swiftly tugged it around her arms, lightly binding her in the silk so she couldn’t move. He expected her to smile or moan or play along with the naughty idea of him tying her with her own dress and teasing her like he’d been teased. But instead she stiffened and the color drained from her cheeks.
“Vaughn,” she gasped, and tugged against him. “Stop! Stop it!”
He released her immediately and she staggered back, her breath short and her hands shaking as she yanked her dress up to cover herself. She backed away from him like she had to escape. There was nothing teasing or playful or false about this reaction. He could see the pure terror on her face and his heart sank with it.
“Evelina,” he said softly, gently, like he would with a wounded animal who needed care.
She shook her head and refused to meet his eyes. “I-I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Let me breathe and we can continue.”
He drew back in horror. “Evie, I don’t care about continuing.”
She waved toward him, though she still wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Of course you do, you didn’t get to…to finish.”
He stepped closer, carefully, not trying to invade her space or make her feel unsafe. “Evelina.” At that she did look at him. “The last thing that matters to me is coming. Please, what just happened? Why did you react so strongly?”
She stared at him, still holding her dress up to cover herself and her struggle was evident. Her breath was short, her cheeks still pale as paper, her eyes sparkling with tears she kept trying to blink away. She opened and shut her mouth like she was trying to find the words. “I-It doesn’t matter.”
He shook his head. “You don’t owe me a damn thing, so if you don’t want to share it, that’s fine. But understand this: it bloody well matters to me. Not only because Ineverwant to accidentally do something that makes you look so devastated, but because I-I like you, Evie. I care about you.”
She shifted back and forth and then she bent her head. Her breath was rough as she fought for words. At last they came. “The—the reason my dresses are designed like this, the hidden little fasteners, the way I can put them on and take them off on my own is because I…I never wanted to be trapped by needing assistance with clothing again.”
“Again?” he repeated softly, his heart beginning to hurt even more for her. “Someone trapped you like that before.”
She nodded. “My protector before Harry…he used to make sure I couldn’t leave by refusing to help me with my clothing. He used that fact to trap me and—and make me do things I didn’t want to do. And if I still refused—” Her voice grew rough and he realized she was hardly breathing anymore. “If I refused he would hurt me.”
* * *
Evelina had told others about her past. Her sisters knew. A few other courtesans so that the network would be aware of her former lover’s violence and issues with control. It was the way women like her protected each other, after all. But those had been brief conversations. She’d minimized even though she thought Arabella knew things had gone further.
But standing here with Vaughn, his green stare holding hers and offering some kind of peace, the words fell from her mouth and they burned like fire. Made her flash back to those awful times almost as much as the horrible moment when Vaughn had held her in the folds of her gown and she couldn’t move.
She pushed at the memories to try to make them go away, but her body still shook. He took another step toward her, his hand held out. “Oh, Evie. Come, please sit.”
She should have refused. She should have found some way back into seduction or even left his house, but her legs carried her to the chair before his fire and she all but collapsed, covering her face with both her hands as she tried to find her breath again.
She heard him moving around and then he returned to her. He took the chair next to hers and handed over a glass of water he’d fetched from the pitcher near the basin.
“You must think me a fool for reacting so strongly to something happened so long ago,” she whispered as she took a drink.
He shook his head. “I could never think you a fool. Certainly not for this. As I said before, you owe me nothing, but…but if you want to tell me, I want to know.”
She let out a little sob she hadn’t meant to let escape and stared up at his ceiling as she tried to decide what to do. Even Harry hadn’t known the full detail of facts. He hadn’t wanted to know about past lovers, the good or the bad. He’d found it distasteful.
So should she pour out this story ontothisman? The one who didn’t even really promise any kind of future, short or long term to her? But then, perhaps he was the best one to tell when it was bubbling inside of her and trying to force itself out.
“Do you know how my sisters and I all came to be courtesans?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I don’t.”
“Everyone always focuses on what they see as fun. The idea of three sisters in the life feels like a play to them, a sparkling party. But we did this because we had to escape. Our father was horrible, an ogre.”
“You said he tried to kill Arabella,” he said.
“Yes, and that was just the culmination of decades of cruelty. Arabella ran first and chose this life. She always embraced it, reveled in it. She saw it as freedom.”
