Page 71 of From Duke Till Dawn
But that was hiding behind another disguise. This time, she would be fully herself with him.
She shook her head. “Upstairs.”
His chest filled and broadened at her words. Then he took her hand and led the way up the curving stairs. Each step resounded low in her belly. There would be no going back from this. Even she couldn’t pretend that once she and Alex went to bed together without the disguises they’d once worn, life would go forward as it always had.
Turn back. Turn back now.
But she couldn’t. She let herself be guided past her own room and down the hallway, until they came to Alex’s bedchamber. He pushed open the door, revealing a room centered around a massive canopied bed. The fire was already lit, filling the room with warmth and golden light.
She didn’t pay attention to the landscapes and portraits hanging on the walls, or the Chinese vases on the mantel. Her gaze caught on the mahogany table and its collection of silver grooming tools: comb, brush, razor, bottles of lotions and tonics, a pair of scissors. She swallowed hard.
“Cassandra?”
She hadn’t realized she’d shut her eyes until his voice called her back again.
“Maybe I’ll have that drink after all,” she said, and attempted a laugh.
He walked to a cabinet and produced a decanter and two glasses. After pouring them both two fingers of what she hoped was whiskey, he handed her one of the glasses.
“We’ll sit by the fire,” he said.
She smiled to herself. He was in command, as always.
They sat down in two wingback chairs placed near the fire. For a while, they simply drank in silence, listening to the pops of the flames. White light edged the heavy curtains, heralding the approach of day. Most of the servants would be awake by now, going about their tasks. They’d know that Cassandra wasn’t in her bed, but the master’s door was closed.
Sod them. She didn’t get this far in life by worrying over others’ opinions of her.
Buthismattered. It always had.
“Why didn’t you tell me the truth?” he asked softly.
She frowned. “I’ve told you everything.”
He shook his head. “But you could have said sooner, about that night in Cheltenham—you already had the money, but you came to my bed anyway.”
Ah. That. She stood and paced around the room. “I hadn’t had a lover in a long while,” she answered.
He rose to his feet. “Still, you don’t speak honestly.”
“I’m slow to trust.”
He smiled without humor. “I don’t even have faith in myself anymore.” He exhaled, then took a drink. “Trust. It’s a wall we keep running up against.”
“I doubt we can ever climb it.” She stopped in her pacing and stared at the bottom of her glass, watching the whiskey glow in the firelight. Hunger pushed at her, demanding him, but she clutched hard at control.
“Not on our own,” he acknowledged. He took a step toward her. “Together, perchance. I boost you up, then you hold out a hand so I can scale the rest of the impediment.”
“What do we do once we’re at the top?” she wondered. “The jump down could break our necks.”
“We can’t stay on top of the wall forever. Sooner or later, we’ll have to risk it and make the descent.”
She resumed pacing the chamber. Everywhere, tiny luxuries winked and gleamed in the firelight. Silver combs, gold and pearl-inlaid boxes. All around them were expensive trinkets that in years past would have tempted her, but now she wanted one thing only—him. “I’d rather just go around the wall.”
He smiled wryly. “Impossible. It’s either forward or backward, and we both know there’s no going back.”
Tightness clutched her chest. “I wish we could.”
“I don’t.”
