Vivy’s throat went dry. She had imagined his name on her lips a thousand times, always in secret, always in the quiet of her own thoughts. “Dash,” she repeated, and the sound of it felt oddly intimate in the austere room.
His gaze darkened—not with anger, but with something she could not name. “And,” he said, voice rougher now, “I will call you Vivy as you requested.”
Vivy’s breath caught. “All right…”
“I must admit that I do prefer it,” he said, as if that settled everything.
She should have argued. But she wanted to call him Dash as if there was some sort of intimacy between them. This was something she had only dreamed about. In her secret heart of hearts, she had one desire and it was all about him and the love she had never been able to get over. Now she had permission to say his name, and it warmed her unexpectedly, like a hand placed over her cold skin.
“I…,” she whispered. “I prefer it too.”
Dash had endured interrogations at knife point with less discomfort than the one that had unfolded in his own study. Not because Vivy had threatened him—she had no weapon in her hand, no blade in her garter and no pistol pressed to his ribs. But she had something worse. She had the truth and she offered it with that maddening mixture of courage and defiance that made him want to shake her and pull her close in the same breath.
He stood very still while she spoke. Every detail sharpened the shape of the danger and every name she remembered tightened the noose around his patience.
She had not actually done anything foolish yet. All she had done so far was what any stubborn, intelligent young woman might do when threatened and left in ignorance. She had sought answers from men who felt familiar and who moved within the same circles as her family. No one would or should have taken note of her actions. The only reason that she was in any danger was because of that original note. The one that warned her about going into her father’s study. He had to find that person because they were the one that knew she had any information at all.
For now, he would have to keep her close. Wren had been assigned to watch her and now that duty fell to him. She would not be seeking any more answers. What bothered him was that the names she recognized were men he worked with… Slothington, Everington, Thornhill, and Lionston….
Which left the question that clawed at him with increasing force. If the Duke of Avonridge had that list…who else had it. Dash’s mind went coldly analytical. The list was not a casual thing. It was not something one stumbled upon and wrote down for amusement. It was the sort of document that belonged in the hands of someone who understood how intelligence moved.
Someone who had access and that someone should not have it. Silence filled the room and stretched long enough that he became aware of Vivy in a way he shouldn’t. But truthfully, he was always aware of her. He just did a decent job of pretending he didn’t want her.
Then Vivy asked, softly, “What was my father doing with that list?” Those words brought him out of his revery.
Dash’s jaw tightened. “That is what I intend to discover.”
Her eyes searched his face. “Do you think my father is involved in this?”
He hated the question because he did not yet know the answer. He hated it more because he saw the fear in her gaze. “I think your father knows something,” Dash said carefully. “And I think someone believes you now know it too.”
Vivy’s breath caught. “Because of the note.”
“And because Wren was attacked,” Dash replied. He forced the words out not wanting to say them to her, but she had to know the extent of the danger she was now in. “They did not harm him simply because they were bored. It was a very specific message, but I think it was meant for me more than for you.”
“How do you know him? Does he work for you.” Vivy’s hands tightened together. “It was you that arranged for him to follow me, wasn’t it?”
Dash’s gaze snapped up…clever girl…too clever. “I thought it best that you had someone to protect you. I couldn’t always be with you,” he said.
“You could have been honest with me,” she retorted. “We could have avoided all of this.”
Dash stared at her, frustration and reluctant admiration warring in his chest. She was brave…brave enough to stand in front of him and demand answers, and to admit she had made mistakes. It should have been infuriating, and it was in some ways. But it was also dangerously compelling.
He took a step toward her before he meant to. Vivy did not retreat. She stood her ground, chin lifted, eyes bright with the stubborn fire that had always undone his best intentions.
Dash’s voice dropped into a hoarse whisper. “You are right. From now on why don’t we make a pact.”
“What did you have in mind?” she said in a soft tone.
“That from this moment on we have nothing but honesty between us. I will never lie to you again, and I promise that you can always trust me.”
She knitted her brows together. “Are you attempting to soften me?”
“No,” Dash said, and the truth scraped out of him. “Because there has never been a time that you couldn’t trust me. You are the one person that I’ve never been able to forget ever since we first met and you fell at my feet.”
Vivy went still at his confession. The air between them tightened into something undefinable. It was charged and made him breathless.
“You…” she whispered.
