She winced at the reference to Caroline here, in this place, in this conversation, as he continued, “You think they won’t see it?” he asked. “You think they won’t notice the way I did? That your two masks bear a striking resemblance to each other?”
“They haven’t before.”
“You weren’t news before.”
She met his gaze and told him the only thing she knew was certain. “People see what they wish to see.”
He did not disagree. “Why risk it?”
“I wish I did not have to.” Truth.
“Why now?” The questions came fast.
“One cannot live a lifetime in my profession.” Either of them.
He didn’t like that. She could see it in his eyes. “So, how will it work? Instead of giving you a house in the country and enough money to last a lifetime, Chase has given you a dowry? It’s not your brother’s money, is it?” he asked, the words full of understanding.
Ironic, that, as he did not understand at all.
I give it to myself.
He laughed, and the sound lacked humor. “He cannot give you what I can give you, though. He would never reveal himself with such public deeds. You need me to give you the reputation. You need me to land you Langley.”
“Something for which you appear to be charging a handsome fee,” she said.
“I would have done it for free, you know.” There was disappointment in his words.
“If only I’d been the little lost girl you thought I was hours ago?”
“I never thought you lost. I thought you strong as steel.”
“And now?”
He lifted a shoulder. Dropped it. “Now, I see you are a businesswoman. I will help you for payment. And you are lucky for that, or else I’d be done with the lot of you. I do not typically get into bed with liars.”
She gave him her most coquettish smile, desperate to shield the way his words stung. “No one’s invited you into bed.”
She did not expect the air to shift, nor did she expect him to return to her, pressing her back against the wall, hunting her. She’d never in her life felt as she did now, her power stripped from her along with her lies. Most of her lies.
All but the biggest one.
His hands pressed against the mahogany on either side of her head, his arms caging her. “You’ve invited me into your bed every time you’ve looked at me for years.”
She hesitated, not knowing what to say. How to proceed with this man who was so different than he’d ever been. “You’re wrong.”
“No,” he said. “I’m right. And to be honest, I’ve wanted to accept. Every… single… time.”
He was so close, so warm, so devastatingly powerful that for the first time in her life, she understood why women swooned in men’s arms. “What has changed?” she said, hearing the breathlessness in her tone, brazening through. “A taste for innocents?”
“We both know better.”
She ignored the sting of the reply. The way they made her wish she did not masquerade as a whore. The way they made her wish he knew the truth. Instead, she soldiered on. “Then nothing has changed.”
“Of course it has.”
Now she was Georgiana.
“You like the idea of a ruined aristocrat,” she said, blood pounding in her ears. “What did you call me? Terrified? What is it… you think you can save me every day? Every night?”
He hesitated. “I think you want saving.”
“I can save myself.”
He smiled then, all wolf. “Not from everything. That’s why you need me.”
She had more power than he could ever imagine. More power than he could ever know. When she lifted her chin and spoke, it was to prove it. “I don’t need you.”
He found her gaze, close and hot. “Who will save you from them then? Who will save you from Chase?”
She did not look away. Did not wish to. “I am in no danger from Chase.”
His hand was on her again, cupping her jaw, tilting her head back. “Tell me the truth,” he commanded, refusing to let her hide. “Can you leave him? Will he allow you to walk away? To start a new life?”
If only the truth were that simple.
He saw the hesitation. Closed the distance between them and hovered a breath away from her. “Tell me.”
How would it feel to lean into him? To let him help? To bring him into her inner sanctum and tell him everything?
“You can help by getting me married.”
“You don’t want marriage. Not to Langley, at least.”
“I don’t want marriage at all, but that’s irrelevant. I need it.”
He considered her words, and she thought that he might fight her. Might refuse. Not that he should care. Not that any of it should matter.
After a long moment, he closed in on her, one hand moving from the wall to the side of her face, caressing her jaw, lifting her chin. His brown eyes searched hers, and when he spoke, it was in a low, dark whisper, demanding honesty. “Do you belong to him?”
She should say yes. It would be safer. It would keep West at arm’s length if he thought for one moment that Chase might fight him for her. He needed Chase and all the information garnered and protected by The Fallen Angel.
She should say yes. But in this moment, with this man, she wanted to tell the truth. Just once. Just to know what it was like to do so. And so she did. “No,” she whispered. “I belong to myself.”