Page 73 of To Catch A Rogue
It wasn't a question, but she sensed the sudden shift of intent and it left her wits scrambling.
"You doubt my intentions," he said. "But you're the one who guards your heart. You're the one who won't let me in. I know you're hiding something." He pressed his fingers to her lips when she started to protest. "Let me finish, please."
Lark swallowed, her lips tingling with his touch.
"You were right," he said simply. "We can't take this step. Not yet. You don't trust me—"
"No! I...." She reached for him, snagging only his sleeve as he stepped back. "It's not.... It's not like that."
"Isn't it?" There was an honest purity to his expression. Charlie never lied. He never hid a damned thing from her, even when she sometimes wanted him to.
"I...." The words choked in her throat.
I can't.
Lifting her hands to her lips, he brushed his mouth over the back of her fingers as she watched helplessly.
"I know. I will wait for you," he promised. "Forever if need be. But if you want this to happen, then you have to let me in. Because I can't have half of you. I can't pretend I'm not aware you're keeping secrets. I would be yours if you would let me, but this decision rests in your hands." He gave a rueful smile. "I suppose you could say you finally won, Lark. You have me on my knees before you. I would never have said this five years ago, but you own my soul. And you always have."
He let her hand go slowly, their fingers straining to stay connected before gravity finally tore them apart.
And then he turned for the door. "We need to meet with the others and work out what to do next. I'll have the carriage prepared. Will you be ready in an hour?"
As if he hadn't just shattered her heart into a million pieces.
"Yes," she whispered.
* * *
A sharp rapcame at the door.
"What is it?" Obsidian called.
The door opened and one of the footmen slipped inside. "An invitation, sir."
The sealed letter on the tray looked innocuous enough, but the seal embossed into thickened red wax made Obsidian's blood freeze.
He ran his fingernail beneath the seal and glanced at the letter’s contents as the footman departed.
"What is it?" Gemma's eyes narrowed as she clearly read the expression on his face.
Obsidian tapped the letter against his thigh. "It appears I shall not have to bother tracking Balfour down and beating some answers out of him. It's an invitation for me to play chess with him this afternoon, when the other men are hunting."
"Chess?"
His lips drew into a thin line. "Though I suspect the pieces we play with will be the lives of the Company of Rogues, and those of Balfour's allies."
She tugged the letter from his fingers and scanned it. "He wants to meet with you alone. I don't like it."
Obsidian drew her into his arms. "There's no control chip in my head anymore, my love. He's not going to brainwash me again."
"I know," she growled, leaning back into his embrace. "But it's Balfour. It has to be some sort of trap."
Obsidian gave her a thin, unamused smile. "He's not going to kill me. Not in his study, after inviting me to play chess with him. He cannot afford to, not with the eyes of the Crimson Court watching, waiting for a chance to tear him down. No. I'll play his game, Gem. I think... Balfour might reveal something if he thinks I'm alone.
"Besides," he told her. "Charlie and Lark have a listening device planted in the study. You can listen in to every word, and if you hear anything out of the ordinary, I fully expect you to burst in, pistols blazing."
"Don't doubt that I will."
