Page 94 of Longing for Liberty
I could do this.
But when we got to the office door, he kept going. I gave his arm a light tug.
“They’re in your office, sir.”
“We didn’t get to finish our conversation.”
Oh, no. No, no, no. He was taking me back to the library. I craned my neck over my shoulder, begging the office door to open. But it stayed securely shut while Roan drew me into the library.
“Shouldn’t we wait for them, sir?” I stopped in the doorway, but he firmly pulled me in by the elbow and kicked the door shut.
“They’ll find us,” he assured me.
I turned completely to face him, my back against the wall by the door. He strolled forward and held out the drink. “For you.”
“Oh, no, please.” I held up both palms. “I’m not a drinker.”
“What a fib.” He grinned, dimples and all. “I saw you drink a glass of wine last time.”
“Yes,” I admitted. “The Secretary gave me one glass, but I never did well with liquor.”
It wasn’t a lie.
Roan stood one foot away from me. He licked his lips, and his eyes flitted over my face, down to my meager excuse for cleavage, back up to my eyes.
“Fitzy has never been a good sharer. Since childhood.”
My mouth clamped shut, and I froze. When he said nothing more, I felt like I was supposed to speak.
“He…I think he wants to honor traditions and be…” Fuck, I was fumbling.
“Blah, blah.” Roan chuckled. “He knows as well as I do that traditions and rules are important for the masses, but not the head of the order. He also knows what’s his is mine, but he’s fighting it.”
He lifted his hand to my face, and I accidentally flinched a tiny bit before forcing myself to relax.
“We, all three, have our vices. I know Fitzy’s, because Jane told me. He begged her for it, and she denied him. A wife can only deny her husband if it’s against the law, which sodomy is, of course. But guess what?”
I didn’t need to answer because he went on.
“She let me.”
My breaths were coming out fast enough through my nose that I could hear them.
“My vice is that I want everything, but now that I’m head of the order, it’s no longer a vice…it’s simply my right.” Once again, he held out the glass. “For you.”
I couldn’t deny him again. I raised a trembling hand and took the cool glass. “Thank you.” I held it now between both hands to keep steady.
“Drink it,” he said softly. “All of it.”
He was wrong that seculars couldn’t be shocked. It had never crossed my mind that Roan would somehow thwart me. Or that my night would turn into this. Because I knew if I drank this my chance was over. Despair scrubbed against my soul like sandpaper.
It’s okay.
You’ll get another chance.
There will be other parties.
My conscience tried to soothe me, but my body fought against it. I needed to accidentally drop the drink. That would buy me time. But it was as if he read my mind, because as I lifted my shaking hand, he grasped the bottom of the glass to steady it and bring it to my mouth.
