Page 76 of Hexbound
Verity sat on the daybed beside him, seeing the hurt in his eyes. She gently touched his back. "About as glum as you," she murmured, her heart aching for him. "But trying to hold it together. Cleo said she would watch over him tonight, and Ianthe came home from that meeting in time. He'll be fine."
"I'm so sorry," Bishop rasped, his eyes blank and staring into the distance. "I shouldn't have said what I said. I know how much it hurt Drake to think that Sebastian was dead. But... it would have been easier."
Verity pressed her cheek against his arm, biting her lip. "Why does Sebastian scare you so much?"
"Because I know who's going to have to deal with him if he explodes out of control." Bishop swallowed. "Drake will never forgive me for it, but it's a duty nobody else can do."
And he would lose his father.
That was what was really plaguing him.
Seeing the wet shine in his eyes, Verity dragged him into her arms, desperately wishing that she could take that hurt away. Having lost her mother—and her father—she knew exactly how he felt. Bishop sucked in a sharp breath, then let her hold him. His arms slowly came up and curled around her back, his face burying itself against her shoulder.
No time for pretense now. She was falling far too fast for this man. It physically hurt her to see him in pain. She would do anything to stop that pain.
Anything.
If she could.
"None of us know what the future holds," she whispered. "But you'll never be alone, Bishop. Even if the worst comes to pass, then... you'll always have me."
He lifted his head, stroking her hips. "Ver?" There was a faint frown on his face.
Her heart started beating a little faster. "I think I'm falling in love with you," she whispered, and that stab of terror came sharply again, threatening to overwhelm her. "A little. And... I don't care if you don't feel the same way." A blatant lie. "I don't expect that. I don't. But I want you to know that I care for you. I wanted you to know that you're not alone. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not ever. If you wish it." Her courage was starting to waver now. He hadn't said a thing, merely gaped at her. "I would like to kiss you," Verity whispered. "But I think if I try, you'll push me away again and I don't know why."
"Verity—"
"So I won't," she said softly, pushing herself upright. "If you want me, I wouldn't say no. But I think it's time I stopped chasing after you. I'm tired of being pushed away. So if you do want me, Adrian, then you must make the next move. Not I." Taking a step back, she swallowed hard. "I-I'll... I'll give you a moment alone, and go see to dinner, shall I? That will make you feel a little better, and then we can talk about what is to be done."
Bishop lasted all of a minute, his heart beginning to thump harder and harder in his chest as her words kept playing around his mind.I think I'm falling in love with you. He'd never expected such a thing. Never dared dream of it. And yet, as the words filled his chest and made something inside him swell, he realized a tiny part of himhaddreamed that dream. A little part he'd never dared examine. And it filled him with both fear and a desperate, desperate longing to go to her and tell her she was not alone. He felt it too.
He was on his feet before he knew it, the blood pounding through his veins as he slipped down the stairs and went after her. He couldn't afford to think, to rationalize all of the ways this could go wrong. The confrontation with his father had scoured him dry, and yet, in a way it had stripped away all of the worry that plagued him. Stripped him back to bare, back to pure primal need and hunger.
And what he needed was ghosting along in front of him through the halls, the whisper of her pale pink skirts floating behind her.
He could move silently when he wanted to, and the first she knew of his presence was when he caught her hand in his.
"Adrian—"
He caught her gasp with his mouth, strong hands catching her by the hips and pressing her back against the Chinese wallpaper. Lust slammed through him. Need. The urge to claim her as his. Verity's fists curled in his collar, as she was wont to do, and their mouths met in a desperate surge. This was what he'd dreamed of. It filled him all the way up inside, as if his body had been hollow somehow and she was a vital piece that had always been missing.
To free himself of all his self-imposed constraints left him breathless and trembling. He'd been so careful for so long that unleashing himself left his head spinning. "Ver," he breathed, tasting her hot little mouth. "Ver, oh God. I want you."
He might as well have set her alight. Greedy little hands tugged at his coat, slipping inside. They darted up his chest, touching him as if he were something precious, when he knew he was not. The kiss deepened, as she devoured him. It was a moment of such pure, utter perfection that he wished it could last forever.
Drawing back, he barely managed to catch his breath. Trembling fingers stroked a lock of hair behind her ear. Soft. So soft. Like silk. And her mouth was swollen and quivering, her green eyes asking a dozen questions.
Bishop cupped her face with his hand and pressed his forehead to hers. Anything to still the raging thunder of his heart and the fierce desire that flushed through his veins. Power tempted him, beyond that of any he'd known, but he wasn't certain if it had anything to do with the Grave Arts or whether she was simply flush with sexual energy.
And it was that uncertainty that made him draw back. He wasn't going to live the same hell as he had with Mya.
"Take me to bed," Verity whispered, her hands pressing flat against his chest beneath his coat. Exploring. Tempting him.
He shook his head.
"You want to. I want to."
Bishop caught her wrists and drew back just enough to meet her eyes. Forcing the words to his lips almost hurt, for somewhere in the deep dark heart of him, kissing her had become part of his own forbidden dreams of the future. "If I hurt you, then I would never forgive myself."
