Chapter 12

Victor was sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace, shrouded by the golden light of the soft flame. He was shirtless with a cup in hand and a half-empty bottle beside him. He had not even noticed her presence but seemed engrossed in his thoughts, for which she was grateful.

Seeing him thus put an image to what she had imagined when her hand had been against his abdomen. He had a beautiful frame with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. There was a smattering of dark hair across his chest which narrowed into a thin line that disappeared into the waistband of his trousers. Her mouth went dry at the sight.

Her eyes went back up to his face and she realized he still had not noticed her presence and had a tormented look on his face. Concern immediately sparked up inside her pushing her to his side.

She crouched down beside him, placing a hand on his arm softly.

"Daphne?" he asked, staring at her in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

His eyes darted around as if he was looking for someone.

"You should not be here," he told her. "It's late."

"I know. I was worried." She said with a small voice. "You did not come down for dinner. Are you all right?"

"I am well," he answered rising to his feet. "As you can see. So you can leave now."

She took in his red-rimmed eyes. She could smell the alcohol on his breath.

"Your appearance suggests otherwise," she scolded, wrinkling her nose. "You should not drink so much."

"It is not your business in which vices I do or do not indulge."

"You are right. It is not," she admitted. "Still, that does not stop me from being concerned about you."

He sighed shaking his head and muttering under his breath.

"I needed some time alone."

"Why?"

"What do you mean why?" he asked with a frown.

"You have been in the public so often over the last few days, I have wondered if your dislike of parties was true," Daphne explained as she sat on one of the sofas. "Your sudden absence is nothing short of concerning."

"I am well, Daphne."

She quirked a brow at him, patting the spot beside her.

"I am here if you need to talk."

"I do not need to talk," he spat as if the last word disgusted him. "I need to be alone and you should be on your way back to your chambers."

"Give me one good reason and I shall be on my way."

He looked positively exasperated and came to stand in front of her signaling at his chest.

Her mouth went dry as she let her eyes run down his frame again.

"I am in a state of undress, and so are you. If anyone should find you here, it would be a scandal of the worst sort. I do not want that on my conscience because I will refuse to marry you," he said. "If that is what you hope for, you should rethink your plan."

"No one will find us at this hour, Victor."

"You must stay away from me," he tried again going for a softer tune. "You are pure and untainted, and I intend for you to remain that way. No matter how hard it is for me."

She was taken aback by his confession.

Does this mean he desires me too?

The temperature in the room rose as they settled into silence. She was vaguely aware of his bed in the periphery of her vision and what things could be done under such cover of darkness. Things that no one would ever know about.

"Daphne," he begged.

"I am not leaving until you speak to me," she said stubbornly so he understood none of his attempts to change her mind would work. "I do not come here with ulterior motives. I am here as a friend. Let me be that."

He stared down at her with an unreadable expression on his face. Then, he moved away from her with a sigh. She noted he had not turned his back to her.

He threw a shirt over his head and leaned against one of his bedposts, running a hand through his hair. Her eyes roamed over his arms and body as the shirt lifted, giving her a brief glimpse of his abdomen.

She instantly felt guilty for harboring such indecent thoughts when she took in his hooded eyes and posture. He obviously had a lot on his mind and she was busy ogling him.

Focus Daphne.She scolded herself.

"We can talk in the morning, Daphne." He tried one last time to dissuade her.

"You said we would talk after dinner, and I intend to hear what you have to say. But first, what is the problem?"

"Stubborn woman," he grumbled.

"Victor."

"All right, all right." He groaned, sitting on the edge of his bed. "It's my mother. She is sick and gravely so, but we do not know if it is terminal or not. She has been taking medicine from some of the best doctors in town, but even they do not know what they are treating."

Oh.

Daphne certainly had not been expecting that.

She had noticed the woman's pale look in recent times, but she had not thought her health that poor.

"I am sorry."

He nodded and they fell into uncomfortable silence which Daphne longed to fill. It was obvious from the few interactions she had noted between him and his mother that he loved her dearly and was protective of her. Seeing her that ill, with no power to help, must have hurt him more than anyone could imagine, especially considering he always seemed to be in control of everything around him.

"The trip here was her worst decision yet. The roads here were abominable," he complained. "But the damned woman could not stand being alone in the townhouse."

His words lacked anger but rather voiced only his concern and fear for her.

"I hear country air is good for people who are ill." She smiled at him, looking to give him hope. "You will be surprised that, with a little more rest, she will recover quickly. Your mother is a strong woman. She will be up on her feet in no time. Do not worry."

He was silent for a long time leaving her wondering what he could be thinking about.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" he asked her with a frown. "I do not see why you would unless… Have you, by any chance, started to harbor a certain fondness for me, Daphne?"

Her eyes widened and she shook her head.

"No, I have not," she said hurriedly. "I only consider you my friend."

He scoffed, sending her a mocking look that incensed her anger.

"You are a young, unmarried woman," he told her. "Surely you have marriage on your mind."

"You know nothing about what I want."

"I might not but I do know what all women desire. The safety of marriage. I cannot give you that, if it is what you expect or hope for from me." He told her this with a dark voice. "If I have given a false impression that I intend to marry you, I am sorry, but I will never marry. I…"

"I already know how you feel about me, Victor," she told him with a level voice that somehow did not betray how hurt she felt hearing him say those words again. "And I know your views on marriage, so do not worry about my feelings."

"How would you know that?"

"Gardens are not exactly the right place for private conversations," she spat letting her ire show.

His brows dipped into a frown as he processed her words but she said nothing, waiting for him to recall the conversation she had hinted at. His eyes widened when he did. "What did you hear?" Victor asked, somehow keeping his voice level so he did not betray his surprise at her revelation.

To know that she had known all this time about that conversation he'd had with Harry and still cared for him the way she did made him feel like a bastard in many ways.

She unfolded her arms and folded them again as she collected her thoughts.

"I heard you say you could not fall for an innocent. And your desires could only be satisfied by a woman with experience and not by a cloying virgin."

If he were a lesser man, he would have berated himself for such harsh words. But he was not a lesser man, and he had meant those words to a certain degree.

"Is that all you heard?" he asked, wanting to know the full scope of what she had overheard.

"Yes," she answered, and he did not pry.

If she had heard more, she would have said so. He had not given her enough credit for her bravery.

"All right," he answered. "Four years ago, I might have considered it, but I have changed. I am not the man I used to be."

"I do not care for the man in your past," she told him. "And do not confuse my words for love. I do not love you."

He laughed at her strong words but nodded, even though the words left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"I would not expect you to love me when I have done nothing to earn it."

"Love is not earned, Victor." She smiled. "It is a gift you could either choose to accept or reject."

"How can you be such an expert on love when you claim to have never been in love?" he asked with a playful tone but was taken aback when she looked away, biting her lip.

She has been in love. But with whom?

"I am sorry. I did not mean to pry," he muttered.

She turned back to him with a placid expression on her face.

"It was a long time ago. I have learned since then."

"You really should leave now," he told her, breaking the heavy silence that had settled between them.

"Why should I?" she asked stubbornly. "Because it is improper?"

"Yes," he said in exasperation. "And I am a man."

"I have nothing to fear from you."

He laughed a low laugh letting his frustration show. She really did not know how close he was to putting his hand up the skirt of the accursed nightgown she wore and showing her just how dangerous he was.

"Why do you say so?" His curiosity got the better of him as he stalked her predatorily, hoping to scare her off. Yet Daphne, being the minx that she was, stood boldly and proudly before him, squaring her shoulders.

Her breasts came into better view and his self-control started to wane.

"Because," she said stepping even closer, her voice dropping low. "You have been nothing but proper with me."

She kept a fierce look on her face that showed her true intention.

He stepped back in shock as he hadn't thought her capable of such impropriety. Did she even know what she was asking?

"Daphne, you are a lady and you are to be treated as such."

"But I am sick and tired of being treated as such," she spat angrily. "My virtue is being bartered and traded like I am a prized cow. When will I ever get to live for myself? To experience pleasure for myself?"

"You do not know what you are asking for, Daphne," he said past the lump that had settled firmly into his throat as she crowded him against the wall, her lavender fragrance clouding his senses.

"I do know what I am asking for, Victor," she said, trailing a finger down his arm. "You are a man who would reject love, but passion… that, you will not reject. I know better than to give my love to a man who does not want it."

He shook his head, moving her so their positions were reversed, as her suggestion became more appealing to him. His hands itched to wrap around her and pull her into his arms. To strip her bare and spread her out in front of him so he could drink in the sight of her and taste her till he thirsted no more.

"You are a woman to be loved on the marital bed by her husband. Not ravished by a rake like me," he warned. "I have no intentions of going softly and slowly with you, Daphne. I will ravish you until your screams wake the entire house. Until your legs quiver each time you think of me. That is the pleasure I offer."

He saw her shudder at her words, but the stubborn woman buried her fingers in his hair.

"That is the pleasure I want, Victor," she breathed.

"Daphne…"

"We only have a few days and then we will go our separate ways." She stepped closer to him, placing a hand on his chest.

"Daphne I would not want to…"

"I know I am not one of the experienced women you prefer. But I would like to learn all there is to know," she interrupted, undeterred. "Wouldn't you derive pleasure knowing you have educated me properly?"

He groaned as the vision of taking her hard and fast against his desk, so she would learn never to tempt him again, popped into his mind. He quickly shot it down as his body responded, blood pulsing hard and fast at the core of him.

"You do not know what you ask for."

"Then teach me, Your Grace," she said, undoing the ribbon that held her night robe which fell away to reveal the most seductive nightgown he had ever seen.

In that moment he knew he would not be able to resist even if the walls came tumbling down around them.

"As you wish."