Page 52 of A Star is Scorned
He seemed to read her mind and told her, “They’re bolted into the ground.” Then, he gripped her bottom and lifted her up as she swept madly behind her, clearing a space as books cascaded to the floor. She winced, silently hoping they were not more first editions. But the feeling of his hands on her backside was enough to distract her from the thought of potential biblio-violence.
He sat her on the shelf and she widened her legs, allowing him to make himself snug against her. Her hands pulled at his shirt, trying to find the buttons under the heaps of ruffles. He huffed in frustration and tugged the shirt out of the ridiculously tight breeches that made his butt look absolutely irresistible.
With the fabric loosed from his pants, Livvy was able to place her hands under his shirt. The juxtaposition of his hard muscle and his warm skin was intoxicating, and she ran her palms over his chest as he reached around to unsnap her bra. He fully cupped both of her breasts, and she shivered at the rough scrape of the calluses on his hands. She gasped and threw her head back in pleasure, exposing more of her neck, which he readily took advantage of kissing.
A sudden trill of giggles broke them apart, as the door to the library burst open and Arlene tugged Don into the library by the edge of his black cape. Livvy’s cheeks felt like they were bursting into flame as she looked up at the shocked couple, realizing that Flynn’s hands were still under her blouse.
Flynn quickly adjusted himself in his breeches before turning to shield Livvy from their prying gaze, as a wide smirk spread across Don’s face. “Looks like someone else had the same idea as us, Lena.”
Arlene smacked Don gently on the back side of his head.“Don’t be so crass.” She looked back at Livvy and Flynn, an apologetic smile on her face. “We didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Livvy jumped up off the shelf, struggling to reach under her shirt and redo the clasp of her bra. “Oh no, that’s, uh… We should… I was just leaving.”
Flynn’s head snapped to her. He looked hurt. But what was she supposed to say?Could you two leave and pretend you didn’t see anything so Flynn can go back to ravishing me?The mere thought of it made her blush from head to toe.
Arlene’s face dropped. “No, please don’t go on our account.”
Livvy knew she must look a fright. She gave up on getting her bra back on and frantically smoothed her hair back into place. “No, really, I need to be getting home. My sister will worry if I stay out too late.”
Confident that she could at least find her way to the front door and her car without too many strange looks, Livvy awkwardly stepped around Flynn, trying to avoid tripping on any of the books they had knocked from the shelves in their passion. “Thank you, Flynn, for a…lovely evening,” she stammered.
Don chuckled under his breath and Arlene smacked his arm and hissed, “Behave.” Livvy would’ve found it hilarious if she wasn’t so mortified.
She squeezed past Arlene and Don to get out the door, and as she passed, Arlene whispered, “I told you he was in love with you.”
Livvy acted as if she didn’t hear her and kept going, swiftly making it to her car without further incident. The words echoed in Livvy’s head her entire drive home. If he wasn’t pretending, then what did he want? A short-lived love affair like all the rest? She didn’t know if she could survive that.
But what if he wanted something else? That thoughtfrightened her. But the thing that scared her most of all? She couldn’t shake the feeling of his mouth against hers and the sensation of his hands on her body. Worse, she didn’t want to. What she wanted was more. But that wasn’t something she could allow herself. Was it?
Chapter 18
Flynn had to laugh at God’s sense of humor. After going to bed early and letting Dash and Joan see the last guests out in the wee hours of the morning, he woke refreshed and eager to see Livvy on set. Because he’d watched her flee from the library, standing there like a dodo bird. When what he should’ve done was go after her and tell her that he didn’t want this to be just a publicity stunt anymore. Against all odds and the promises he’d made himself, he’d developed feelings for a dame. And stranger still, he couldn’t wait to tell her. But when he’d practically skipped downstairs to retrieve his morning cup of coffee, all the wind went out of his sails.
Hugh had left a telegram sitting ominously on the kitchen counter, its inky black address mocking him. Flynn stared at it. Considered tossing it in the rubbish bin without opening it. Nothing was going to dampen the spring in his step. The last thing he needed was another request for funds from Edgar. Until he was in the clear with the Legion of Decency, Flynn was keeping his bank vault locked and bolted. But curiosity got the better of him while he sat there staring at the telegram, sipping his too-hot coffee. It contained only three words:
HE IS GONE
It was done then. Lord Banks, the seventh Viscount of Nottsworth, had shuffled off his mortal coil once and for all. Flynn expected to feel nothing. Perhaps a sense of relief, of a weight being lifted. Even outright glee at the thought of his father rotting in hell like he deserved. He’d certainly taken enough beatings from his father to have earned the right to dance on his grave. But a peculiar pain hit him square in the chest as he read the words over again. Was this grief? How could it be? How could any part of him mourn for this man?
He’d never know what his father had so desperately wanted to tell him on his deathbed. But there was nothing his father could have said that would’ve mattered. Flynn’s only regret was that he’d never confronted the bastard about the fact that he knew his father’s worst secret. That he had never exposed the old man for what he truly was. Flynn had hoped that his profligate lifestyle had been punishment enough. The best revenge was living well, after all. But should Flynn have told him? Had he caused more harm by choosing to run away rather than confront him? And did it matter now that his father was dead?
All of this roiled in his mind as he ghost-walked through his morning ablutions, washing his face, shaving, and pomading his hair. His plan to rush to the studio, visit Livvy’s dressing room, and confess how he felt was forgotten, washed away by a sea of confusion and unease.
Two hours later, Flynn was on set. But his mind was still back at home with that blasted telegram. He alternated between a deep sadness that his father had never loved him, had never been capable of such affection, and an anger at himself for feeling so shaken by this news.Choose joy.He recited the words to himself over and over in his head, hoping they would dispel this foreign emotion of guilt. Absentmindedly, he wondered if he was in the will. Likelynot, if Edgar was reduced to begging him for funds. A shame, as Flynn could’ve used the extra cushion right now.
Livvy gave him a weak smile, but he didn’t return it. She frowned, but he scarcely noticed, being so lost in his own thoughts. She was in a billowing gown, looking nervously up at the scaffolding she needed to climb to reach her perch. His character was meant to scale the walls of her home, climbing to her balcony and stealing a good-night kiss. All veryRomeo and Juliet. He ran his hand down his face. He didn’t have the stomach for this today. Not with his thoughts a jumble. He couldn’t pretend to make love to her until they had a chance to talk about last night. It felt…wrong. But by the same token, before he could confess to her, he wanted to shake off whatever this sudden pall was. How would she respond if he admitted he was developing feelings for her with this hangdog expression?
Livvy gently nudged him, and it made him jump. “What was that for?” he growled.
She looked hurt. Fuck. Here his father was again, ruining his life. This time from beyond the grave.
“I was trying to be friendly,” she muttered. She bit her lip and rolled her shoulders back. “I thought…last night…” Her voice trailed off and he had no idea whether she intended to tell him it was a terrible mistake or the best night of her life.
He snapped at her when she didn’t continue. “What?”
“Never mind. Let me be. I need to focus.”
He was in a wretched mood. He should have called in sick. But Harry knew that his Halloween party had been last night. He would have assumed Flynn was hungover and docked his pay. Now Flynn was taking it out on Livvy instead. For the first time, he thought perhaps there were some parts of himself that could use improving. “Sorry. I just… I’m not feeling myself this morning.”
