Dash’s composure, so hard-won and carefully maintained, fractured with the quiet sound of inevitability. Somehow, he should have known it would always come to this…to her and him alone, and an undeniable desire he couldn’t deny if he tried. He reached for her as if pulled by something beyond sense, beyond duty, and beyond the rules that had kept him alive.
He settled his hands at her waist and drew her into the shelter of his body before he fully realized what he was doing. Vivy’s breath hitched, but she did not pull away. She looked up at him, wide-eyed, furious and tender all at once, as if she did not know whether to slap him or surrender as he already had. Dash did not give her the chance to choose either. He dipped his head and kissed her.
At first it was controlled, brief and restrained, an impulse he meant to stop the moment it began. But Vivy’s lips parted with a soft, startled sound, and something inside him broke loose. The kiss deepened and heat flooded through him with a violence he had not permitted himself in years. He tightened his hand at her waist as if he could anchor himself there. He wanted to lean into her and feel every inch of her against him.
For one breathless moment every hardship he had endured, the list, and the danger fell away. There was only her. Only the taste of her, her softness, and the fierce certainty that he had been starving for something he never allowed himself to want.
Then he forced himself to lift his head, breath unsteady, and need coursing through him. Vivy stared up at him, her cheeks were flushed and her lips were parted into stunned into silence. Dash swallowed, his voice rough as he said the only thing he could manage without falling deeper. “This changes nothing,” he lied. Because it had changed everything for him. He knew he should never have kissed her, and he had done it anyway.
He had been fooling himself for a long time now. He had told himself that he had not thought of her much over the years, that he did not need her, and he certainly was not in love with her. All of it had been carefully crafted lies he lived and breathed for far too long. He could no longer deny any of it. Not to himself, and not to her, not really.
Especially when she boldly met his gaze. Because in that moment he knew she would not let him get away with the lies. But he had to try, at least for a little while longer. Once she was safe, they could revisit this again, and then he would hold to the bargain he had made with her. He had promised her no more lies, but he couldn’t stop yet. She could hate him, but at least she would be alive to feel it.
Eight
Vivy was livid. There was no other word for it. After Dash had kissed her, she had thought the best possible thing had happened. Until he opened his mouth and ruined the moment. Now she sat alone in the sitting room at his house and stewed in her misery. It was the same quiet country house with its discreet halls and paneled walls when she first arrived. The servants were well disciplined and appeared and vanished like well-trained ghosts. Everything remained the same. Except her.
Everything inside of Vivy had been altered—as if the kiss had shifted something fundamental in her, turning her bones to flame and her blood to restless light. Hours had passed since Dash had pressed his mouth to hers.
Hours, and she could still feel it. The first startled press of his mouth over hers and the way his restraint had splintered. Then the heat that had followed…. She had given herself to that kiss with a helpless, aching honesty—because she had loved him for years, quietly, foolishly and faithfully. She had imagined him in stolen moments and half-shut dreams, never daring to believe she would know the reality of him. Never daring to believe he might ever look at her with the same unrelenting hunger that she too experienced.
He had kissed her as if he could not breathe without her. Then he had lifted his head and said, with that hard mask of composure he wore so effortlessly said…this changes nothing.
It was a lie, and if Vivy had learned anything tonight, it was that lies—however carefully spoken—could cut one to the quick. For her, that kiss had changed everything. He may have said those words after, but he was wrong. Either he lied to himself or he lied to her…perhaps both.
She paced the small sitting room off the study, trying to find composure and a sense of calm. She was still struggling with it all and still she could not find reason. She stared at the fire that had been lit at some point and became lost in its gentle warmth. Even that did not soothe her at all.
Desire, once awakened, was not easily ignored. She could still taste him. Still feel the imprint of his hands at her waist and hear the roughness in his breath when he’d pulled away. She could not, would not, pretend it meant nothing simply because he wished it so.
The door opened with soft efficiency. Dash stepped into the room. He had removed his coat, and his cravat had been loosened a fraction. He looked composed again, as if he had locked their shared moment away and returned to duty.
That alone ignited her.
He paused when he saw her standing there, the candlelight caught in his hazel eyes making them more gold than green. “You should be resting,” he said in a calm tone. As if he were speaking to a reasonable woman who had not just had her entire life rearranged by a single kiss.
Vivy did not curtsy and she certainly did not smile. She did not soften her voice to make him feel at ease. Not with the raging fury nearly pouring off of her. “We agreed not to lie to one another,” she said abruptly.
Dash went very still. “What?” he asked, as if he had not heard her properly.
“We agreed,” Vivy repeated, refusing to give him room to evade it, “not to lie to each other.”
A flicker of surprise filled his gaze, but then it was quickly replaced with wariness. Clearly, he had not expected her remind to him of their agreement. “We did,” he said carefully.
Vivy’s heart pounded. “Then why did you break that vow mere minutes after we made it?”
His gaze sharpened. “I have not…”
“You did.” Vivy stepped closer, the words spilling with a fierce clarity she had never allowed herself before. “You kissed me, and then you told me it changed nothing.”
Dash’s jaw tightened. “Vivy…”
“No.” The single syllable came out sharp enough to cut. “Do not attempt to charm me. Now we both know the truth.” He met her gaze and frowned. It bothered him that she had called him a liar. Well, that was too bad. Because he had not told her the truth and she would not allow him to ignore her. “You kissed me,” Vivy said, her voice trembling. Not with fear but with feelings she could barely contain, “as if it meant everything.”
Dash’s breathing changed. Just slightly. A tell she would have missed once, but she was coming to know him. Vivy pressed on. “You cannot look at me like that, hold me as you did and kiss me with such desperation, and then tell me it meant nothing.”
Silence stretched between them, thick as velvet, and Vivy’s throat tightened with pent up emotions. He did not deny it and that was answer enough.
Her courage surged—reckless and filled with righteous indignation. “Prove it,” she demanded.
