Chapter Twenty

CHAPTER TWENTY

Thursday Night, The Onyx Club

M eredith had been hiding from Griffin since the night of dinner party. But now that she was at the club, she would have to see him. And it would be easier this way. Behind masks. Still pretending. If he arrived, that is. And if he intended to keep up the ruse.

She'd wrestled with whether to come here tonight. What could she say? What was left to say? If he still pretended to be Mr. Sapphire, she still intended to apologize for what had happened last time. That was really all she knew.

But in the end, it hadn't even been a choice, really. She'd been compelled to come here. She had to know how Griffin would act.

She purposely hadn't told Griffin that she was barren. He would only say it didn't matter. She knew him well enough to know that. He would insist they marry. And she couldn't allow him to do that. Griffin was a duke. He needed an heir. He had a duty. She'd already failed the Maxwell clan. She wasn't about to be the reason two dukedoms remained without heirs.

Not to mention it would break Griffin's poor mother. She had been waiting for a grandchild for far too long already. The duchess loved Meredith. She would also insist they marry. No. Meredith loved them all far too much to ruin their chances of producing an heir.

She might not be able to marry him, but she couldn't forget the passion she'd found in Griffin's arms. It had been explosive, unlike anything she'd experienced before. And every second of it replayed in her mind over and over. Haunting her, torturing her.

She was already halfway through her first glass of brandy, doing all she could to block out the tantalizing thoughts of the things Griffin had said to her, the things he'd done to her body, the things he'd whispered into her ear.

Then her thoughts would flip to what he'd said afterward. He loved her ? Of course he did. It seemed as obvious as breathing now. And she had known the truth. Perhaps not in her mind, but in her heart. She'd known it and had tried to make it go away, just like every other difficult emotion she'd shared with Griffin over the years.

The way he'd made love to her the first two times had been amazing, but that night in her drawing room— that had been unbelievable. She hadn't known that such a thing could happen. It never had with Maxwell.

"Brandy tonight?" came a deep, male voice in her ear.

Meredith turned to see Griffin standing there. He was wearing his familiar blue waistcoat and mask. So handsome. So unbearably handsome.

"Buy me another?" she asked, even though her glass was still half full.

He shook his head. "I only came here tonight to say good-bye to you. "

"Good-bye?" The word caught in her throat. She'd been planning to tell him the same thing, but the word sounded so final when he said it. Were they truly going to say good-bye to one another without admitting their identities?

"First, there's something I must tell you," he said.

She nodded. This was it. He obviously planned to tell her the truth. And she must listen and also tell the truth. "Go ahead."

"Not here." He tilted his head toward the back of the club. "Come up to the room with me? I promise I'll be a perfect gentleman."

She nodded again and waited while he paid the barkeep for the room key. She clutched her half-full glass of brandy as if it were the last shred of her sanity as she followed him up to the room. With the masks, maybe she would be able to pretend just a little bit longer.

Room seven again. Was it lucky or cursed?

When the door closed behind them, she turned to face him. "I'm glad we came up here. There's something I need to say to you too."

He pressed his back against the door and folded his arms over his chest. "Ladies first."

She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry for what happened between us the other night. It was… I was… I'm sorry." She didn't even know if she was apologizing for the last time they'd been here at the club together or that night in the drawing room. Both, probably.

"Thank you. I accept your apology," he said. "My turn?"

Meredith nodded.

Griffin steeled himself. He was angry with Meredith for avoiding him all week. The morning after the dinner party, he'd tried to pay her a call. She'd refused him. Apparently, she wouldn't refuse him when he wore a mask. Somehow he'd known she would still be here tonight. And he'd been desperate to see her. That's why he'd come. But either way, it was time for both of them to stop pretending.

They needed to have this out. Which was why he'd insisted on coming up to this room. He didn't want the entire club to witness their argument. Not to mention the fact that he had no intention of removing his mask in the middle of the crowd downstairs.

Griffin took a deep breath. It was time. He was tired of living under false pretenses. From now on, he would be nothing but truthful about his identity, about his feelings for Meredith, about everything. But first he wanted some truth from her . And how convenient that he could ask her a few things while they were still pretending?

He stepped toward her, letting his arms fall to his sides. "Tell me something."

"Yes?" she gulped, watching him carefully.

He narrowed his eyes. "Who is Griffin? What does he mean to you?" If she wanted to keep pretending, he would let her.

"Griff, uh, Griffin is my friend. My closest friend." Another gulp. She wouldn't look him in the eye.

He continued to walk toward her, and she retreated slowly until her back hit the far wall of the small room. Then he braced both hands against the plaster on either side of her head. "Oh, I think he's more than a friend. Given what happened between us the other night. You said his name ."

Beneath her mask, her eyes darted from side to side as if measuring whether she could escape. She looked uneasy, and he hated that he was the one making her feel that way, but he had to hear the truth from her own lips.

"Do you love Griffin?" he demanded .

She squeezed her eyes shut. Her pulse throbbed in her throat. "What does that matter?"

"It matters. It matters quite a lot. To me ." Damn her. She was still not going to give him the truth, to admit she loved him.

Opening her eyes again, she slipped from beneath his arms and hurried toward the door. When she got there, she placed her hand on the knob and paused. "I'm truly sorry to have bruised your pride. But I…must go."

"Running away?" came his mocking voice. "I didn't peg you as a coward."

Still facing the door, Meredith lifted her chin. "I'm not running away." She tried to sound defiant, but her voice was deflated. She knew he was right. She was running away.

"Where are you going then? To find Griffin ?"

"No."

He took a seat on the bed. "Tell me. Why were you here trying to get a stranger to make love to you if you're in love with a man named Griffin?"

"I'm not in love with him!" she nearly shouted.

"Aren't you?"

She whirled to face him. "Stop! We're just friends. Griffin and I are just friends ."

If she was going to take this all the way, then so would he. "You sound as if you're trying to convince yourself as much as me."

"I'm leaving." She turned and opened the door, but he was behind her in an instant and quickly slammed it shut again with the palm of his hand.

"No, you're not," he whispered darkly in her ear, his hand still pressed to the door. "Not until I tell you what I tried to tell you the last time you were here." He grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him as he ripped the mask off his face.

Meredith gasped. She squeezed her eyes shut, and tears ran down her cheeks. " Griffin , don't. "

"Don't pretend any more, Meredith," Griffin growled. "I suspect you've known it was me all along."

Her silence answered for her.

He lowered his head and whispered into her ear, "And it was me. You were with me each time you were here, not some nameless man. You wanted me . I just want you to remember that, Meredith, when you're pretending we're only friends ."

He pulled back his head to look at her. Her eyes were filled with tears, but her jaw was tightly clenched. "Griffin, why did you do this? Why did you follow me here? Why did you pretend?—?"

"Ah, mock outrage?" His laugh was entirely humorless. "Did you honestly expect me to let you go to a pleasure club without ensuring your safety, Meredith? You know me better than that."

She shook her head. "You didn't have to do this. You didn't have to tell me who you are. You?—"

"I what? Had to resort to a cheap device"—he flung the mask across the room—"to try to get you to admit you love me?"

She turned back toward the door. "I'm leaving."

"I don't hear you denying it though."

Her voice was low, angry. "It doesn't matter if?—"

"The hell it doesn't." He scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Look, Meredith. The truth is when you married Maxwell, it devastated me. But you were dead set on marrying that old man. You actually thought you should do it for your father ."

Her chin quivered. "My father loved me."

"Your father abandoned you and used you," he shot back .

Tears streamed down her cheeks. "You don't know anything about my father."

"Don't I? I've heard all the stories from Ash over the years. And I've witnessed a lot of it myself."

She angrily swiped the tears from her eyes. "So what, Griffin? You think you can just tell me you love me now and I'll fall into your arms and marry you?"

"You're using your unhappy marriage as the reason you won't try again. But our marriage would be completely different from whatever happened between you and Maxwell. You know that, Meredith. You must know that." He captured her gaze and held it. "Now, I'm going to ask you one more time. Do. You. Love. Me?"

A steely resolve shone in her eyes. Her jaw was tight. "And I'm going to tell you one more time. It doesn't matter . It's too late. You'll never know how close you came to making the biggest mistake of your life. Now. I'm leaving." She ripped open the door. Her voice was low but certain. "And I never want to speak to you again."