Page 101 of Sloth: The Fallen Earl
A gape in his shirt revealed the stark telling heat that climbed the light patch of tight golden curls that covered his chest to his neck and then the sharp lines of his cheeks.
“The fact remains, Cressida. I’m the only one of the two of us who’s been honest and up front about my reason for being at The Devil’s Den. As vile and dishonorable as my actions were that night bidding on you at that auction, lust was what drove me. You, on the other hand…”
His vicious but undeniably accurate charge ripped a hole square through her heart.
Cressida hunched her shoulders in a bid to escape that searing agony. His kindness of before gone, he wouldn’t let her.
“Why won’t you bloody tell me?” he demanded.
“There’s nothing to tell you!” she cried out.
He scoffed. “You expect me to believe you were just a young virgin, curious about carnal acts and willing to sell yourself to the highest bidder?”
Tears blurred her eyes.
“Because I don’t believe it, Cressida. You stand here knowing information about me, about who I am and my family, while remaining content to be an absolute fucking riddle to me, a mystery.”
A single tear slipped free. She recoiled as that warm moisture slipped down her cheek. When was the last time she had cried? Her life had become so impossible. She’d ceased to be affected by the lash of cruel words and insults hurled by her brother or the painful sting of slaps and blows he’d landed upon her skin. Only to now find herself still capable of crying from nothing more than words leveled by Benedict.
The fight went swiftly out of him. His gaze went over her face. He balled and unballed his hands at his side.
“No doubt, you take me for cruel,” he said woodenly.
Cressida gave her head a small shake. “I don’t.”
“Do I have wonderings and questions? Absolutely.” He didn’t deny suspicions even. “But when I ask you about your past and why you were at that club, I don’t do that solely for those reasons.” He spoke through gritted teeth. “I am bloody intrigued and want to know about you. Do you know how bloody terrifying that is? That I do not likely even know your real name.”
He waited.
She knew what was expected of her here. He wanted that actual identifier. Cressida, however, could not give that to him. She remained tightlipped.
Benedict stared at her for a long moment more and then released a long dark curse.
Cressida flinched.
“My lord?”
Caught unawares, Benedict and Cressida both spun to face the doorway.
A concerned Burgess alternated a concerned stare back between his master and his master’s mistress.
“What is it, Burgess?” Benedict asked.
Burgess cleared his throat. “My apologies, my lord, company has arrived.”
A brief haze of confusion lit a spark in his eyes that had previously been angry and impatient. Then swiftly came understanding.
“I’ve shown him to your office, my lord.”
“Very good.”
When Burgess had gone, Benedict looked back to Cressida.
“My apologies for earlier,” he said. “It was unforgivable for me to speak—”
“You needn’t apologize,” she swiftly interrupted.
“I do.”
