Page 66 of A Certain Appeal
“You—what?” I search his face, confident I’ll see judgment, some self-righteous attitude. All I find is open concern.
“I hope I didn’t overstep,” he continues, moving toward me. “I should have asked you first. It just seemed—”
“No!” The swell of appreciation mingles with the adrenaline coursing through my system, making a heady cocktail of hormones.Why is he here? Why would he do that for me after yesterday?“Thank you.”
A trio of girls from one of the bachelorette parties makes its giggling way down the stairs. I tip my head toward the coat check. Darcy follows me into the tiny space, letting the curtain fall back over the opening. I hit the dimmer switch, bringing the light up just enough that we’re not in total darkness, but not so much that he can get too clear a look at my face. We’re standing on opposite sides of the almost-room, but it only separates us by a few feet.
He looks around. “This was where you were when you overheard me talking to Charles.”
I slump against the wall. I don’t want to talk about that, to be reminded of yesterday on top of the degrading moment he just witnessed. But he’s watching me too carefully, so I ask, “Why are you here?”
His eyebrows are low, as though I’ve interrupted some inner monologue. “I need to give you something. But...” He studies my face, his jaw tight. “Later. First, are you okay?”
I answer honestly. “No.” The broken word sets my cheeks ablaze, and I have to look away. My nameless assailant’s face flashes in my memory, and fresh tears sting my eyes.
“Would—” Darcy stands straighter, feet planted like he’s squaring off. “Would you like to hit me?”
A strangled half laugh escapes me. I blink back the tears. “What?”
His shoulders fall. “Given what happened, I thought you might need a release.”
“And you figuredhitting youwould do that for me?”
“I assumed it might hold some appeal after yesterday.”
The man can be astute, I’ll give him that. “A generous offer, Darcy, but I’ll pass.”
He nods, rubbing the back of his neck. Did he really think I’d takehim up on the offer tohithim? All because some creep—I flinch at the specter of that unwanted touch.
Darcy tenses, scanning me for some sign of damage. His genuine concern tangles with my roiling emotions, and I blurt the first thing that comes to mind:
“Kiss me?”
He nods, but then my words register with both of us. Darcy manages a baffled, “W-what?” as my brain screams,What the fuck did I just say?
I gasp and fling a hand over my mouth. “I’m sorry!” I curl my hand into my chest, fingers cold against the rising heat.OHMIGOD!“That was totally inappropriate. I—I don’t know. It’s probably because you said ‘release’?” I fumble for an explanation. “I want to feel something I’ve asked for, something good. I just don’t want to feelhim.”
Darcy still hasn’t blinked.
“I’m sorry,” I repeat. “Forget it.”
He comes to, eyelids fluttering. A cautious smile plucks at one side of his mouth. “So, kissing me would be... good?”
I did say that.This night just got so much worse. What the hell. What in the actual—
“Okay,” he says.
I wonder if I can commit seppuku with one of the wooden hangers behind Darcy’s head. “Don’t. I’m... I don’t know what I’m saying. It’s stupid. I—”
“Bennet.” Darcy half-smiles, looking almost—self-conscious?It’s enough to give me pause. Is he even capable of that? “I don’t want to make light of the situation,” he says. “But you can’t think I wouldn’t be interested.”
Yesterday’s brutal comments echo in my mind. He should hate me. I wanted him to. “After everything—”
“It’s hardly a sacrifice to kiss a beautiful woman.”
My mouth is already open to protest, but his comment has me snapping my jaw shut so hard my teeth click.Beautiful?
Before I can dissect his response, he steps forward, holding his hands out, palms up, like a surgeon who’s scrubbed in. “Do I have permission?”
