Page 29 of The Lady Was Lying (Greydon #3)

Chapter Thirteen

T he fact that Belinda had chosen not to go directly to her bedchamber—the one place in the house where James would never seek her out—and instead went to the library was not lost on her.

She might not have given him any indication that he ought to follow, but she certainly wasn’t doing anything to stop him from finding her if he were so inclined.

Footsteps in the hallway spurred her to reach up, straining on her toes to pluck a thin volume at random from the tightly packed shelf that was almost out of reach.

“You’re avoiding me,” James said from behind her.

She pulled the book into her chest and pivoted, relieved that she was finally able to admit it. “Yes.”

“Why?” he asked. Curiosity and something she couldn’t name lurked in his steady brown eyes. Was it lust? Or could it be something deeper?

Always too focused on the role she’d assigned herself, she’d never been able to read him. Not correctly, at least. “It seemed the wisest course of action.”

“Why?” he asked again.

“I promised I wouldn’t seduce you,” she practically growled, clutching the book as if her life depended on it. It had been a promise to herself as much to him.

“What if I said that I want you to?” There was no doubt in his voice. Nothing to indicate he was lying, and yet she couldn’t quite make herself believe him. Was it because she was terrified by how much she wanted to?

“You don’t.”

“I do. I want to kiss you.”

“Absolutely not.” She was in danger of completely unraveling. She had no idea whether sharing a kiss with him would make everything better or worse, and therefore she couldn’t convince herself to take the risk.

“You asked me to kiss you,” he reminded her. “More than once.”

“You refused,” she countered. “More than once.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t know you then,” he said, reaching out slowly, cupping her cheeks and gently cradling her face with his palms. It was sweet and caring and awful .

“Please allow me to kiss you,” he whispered.

“No,” she sputtered, too scared to kiss him, and yet unable to move away from his touch. Her heart thudded in her chest, and the world narrowed until the only thing that existed was him.

Just him.

“Belinda.” His voice was soft, practically begging. “I want to kiss you.”

Had he completely lost his mind?

He’d rejected her. Twice . Promised he’d never kiss her.

He was the only man she knew who had not been swayed by her beauty.

The only man she’d failed to lure. After he had rejected her, she’d spent time in his company, more than she should have, and without meaning to, she’d revealed glimpses of her true self.

Tiny pieces of her soul that could be pieced together to expose the whole.

It was difficult to think, but even so, she knew she shouldn’t allow herself to share a kiss with him. There were so many reasons it was a horrid idea, but one rose above all others—what if he kissed her and she felt nothing?

It would break her heart.

Leave it shattered.

If kissing him left her cold inside, she’d be tempted to fling herself out of a moving carriage the next time she had the opportunity. Tumbling onto the hard ground would hurt less than discovering that she felt the same void with James as with all the others.

Just thinking about it caused a pang in her chest.

Her mother’s advice suddenly seemed unerringly pertinent. She’d already gotten to know James. Not in a traditional way perhaps, but they had argued and talked and danced and ridden in the park together.

Air rushed out of her lungs, and she had to consciously remind herself to inhale. “You don’t want to kiss me. You cannot.”

“I want to kiss you,” he repeated. Using his thumbs, he swiped at the tears that had welled in her eyes before they could trickle down her cheeks. “And I absolutely can. But I won’t if you don’t want me to.”

“I asked you twice. You told me never,” she replied, repeating herself and clinging to his rejection like it could somehow protect her from feeling anything at all.

“You did ask me twice. Practically begged me the second time. Told me you’d seduce me if I didn’t kiss you.

” He wiped away another round of tears. “Consider me seduced. I’m sorry I refused before, but I didn’t know you then.

” He paused, shaking his head slightly. “I thought I knew how courtship worked, but I didn’t.

Now that I know you, I’ve realized courtship can take many forms.”

“It’s…too late.” The tightness in her chest made it difficult to breathe. “You might have decided you want to kiss me, but now that I’m thinking clearly, I’ve realized I don’t want to kiss you.”

It was a lie. Maybe the worst she’d ever told.

But it was the truth too.

“Really? Because the number of times you’ve looked at my lips during this conversation alone makes me think you’re lying.”

“Lying,” she scoffed, shocked that he’d noticed and even more shocked that he’d said something. Who did he think he was? And why was he willing to brave her sharp tongue? Was a kiss worth so much to him?

“I’m glancing at your lips because we’re talking about kissing,” she claimed.

“I don’t think so.”

“You missed your chance,” she responded firmly.

He nodded slowly and dropped his hands, leaving her cheeks subject to the cool air.

Wanting to recapture the heat he’d left behind was ridiculous and could not be allowed, but she had a hard time resisting the urge to put her hands where his had been. And an even harder time stopping herself from begging him to put his back.

“I can be patient,” he said. “We don’t have to kiss tonight. I’ll wait until you change your mind.”

“I won’t change my mind. You were right. We can’t risk it. Kisses are supposed to mean something.”

She sounded desperate.

Probably because she was.

“It’ll mean something when I kiss you.” It was a vow. A terrifying vow.

“How do you know it’ll mean something?” she asked, unable to resist.

“Because I like you. I think about you when we aren’t together.

I seek you out as soon as I arrive at your brother’s townhouse, and I’m disappointed when you’re elsewhere.

If I don’t find you waiting in my carriage, I stall for far too long to see if you’re going to join me.

I enjoy your company even when you’re grumpy and you snap at me.

” He stared directly into her eyes. “You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever known.

You confuse me and challenge me, and I should have asked to court you the very day we met.

If I hadn’t been so peevish, I would have immediately recognized how special you are. ”

She blinked. Was he saying that he liked her?

No one liked her. She was too prickly. Overly emotional. Prone to lashing out. And yet he appeared entirely serious. What was wrong with him?

And why was she smiling in response?

Perhaps her mother had been right. Perhaps there was nothing left for her to do but tell him the truth and see what happened.

* * *

Her voice was so quiet, he almost didn’t hear her when she mumbled, “I’m scared.”

“Of me?” he croaked. Out of all the explanations she might have given, that one hadn’t even occurred to him. No wonder she didn’t want to kiss him.

“Of course not,” she snapped.

He exhaled with relief. “Of what then?”

“There are things you don’t know about me,” she deflected.

“Like?”

She spoke plainly, almost unemotionally, when she said, “I’ve kissed many men.”

Since she’d already told him about the man in the bookstore, he wasn’t shocked that there had been more. “I’m aware. You told me,” he reminded her.

“I didn’t like it,” she stated bluntly.

“Oh.” Just when he thought he understood her, she revealed another layer.

Her adamant refusal made more sense, but what about all the times she’d asked him to kiss her or locked her gaze on his lips? What had she been thinking if she hadn’t wanted to kiss him?

He had questions. So many questions. “You?—”

“My mother suggested that I might enjoy kissing more if I were better acquainted with my partner, but I have not had the opportunity to test her theory.”

“We are well acquainted,” he said slowly.

“Maybe.” Hope rose. “Maybe not.” Hope crumbled.

But it didn’t die.

Because he wasn’t impatient. At least not about this.

He would wait until she wanted to kiss him as much as he wanted to kiss her.

Until he mattered to her as much as she was coming to matter to him.

“Perhaps when you feel like we know each other well enough, you’ll want to test your mother’s theory. ”

“How will I know that I know you well enough?”

It was a good question. One he didn’t have a clear answer for.

“You’ll know,” he said, as confidently as he could manage.

“But how?” She practically growled.

Forcing himself to consider the question more thoroughly, he tried to put into words why he wanted to kiss her now when he hadn’t been willing to before. “Because you will want to and the want you feel will override the fear.”

“I already want it. I’ve imagined it. Countless times.” There was anguish in her voice.

“ Countless times ,” he repeated, even more confused. It dawned on him suddenly that, in his relief, he had failed to ask her a very important question. “What are you scared of?”

“If I don’t like kissing you, that’ll be the end. My last chance. There will be no reason for me to continue trying, and”—she bit her lip—“I’ll have to let you go.”

“Let me go,” he repeated. “I’m afraid I’m still not following.”

“I like you,” she practically shouted. “And it’s scary.”

Lady Belinda Grey liked him.

His heart swelled. “Why would you let me go if you like me?”

“Because I’m scared,” she repeated, as if he were daft.

“And?” He didn’t know how to take away her fear.

“You aren’t a feckless lord who already has a wife. Nor are you a man desperate for my dowry. You are a principled man in search of a partner. One who adheres to his sense of honor without hesitation.”

“Is that a deterrent?” Lord, she confused him.