He almost did.
Almost allowed his desire free rein, but the plaintive cry of his damn conscience was too loud.
“I can’t…” Gal pulled back, and it was the hardest thing he ever had to do. “Not like this, Venus… It isn’t proper when…”
“There’s no need for propriety.” She yanked him back, fusing her mouth to his. “I’m not a virgin.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Anthony did not go to Scotland to fetch my engagement ring. The despicable liar eloped to Gretna Green with the chancellor of the Exchequer’s daughter instead! My foolish heart isbroken…
—from the diary of Miss Venus Merriwell, aged 21
He withdrew from the bed and, rather than be disappointed or disgusted by her confession, stared perplexed for the longest time. Seemingly oblivious of either his nudity or the impressive jut of his obvious desire. Desire that showed no signs of deflating despite his reluctance to make good use of it.
After an age, he huffed and shrugged. “Neither am I, so I guess we have something else in common, apart from our talent for counting cards and a soft spot for orphans.” Then he smiled—sheepishly. “But that wasn’t why I stopped.” He sat on the mattress beside her with a heavy sigh. “I have a conscience issue.”
“Aconscienceissue?”
“I know…” He was chuckling—chuckling!—when she had just told him her most shameful secret. As if he genuinely didn’t give two figs that she hadn’t saved herself for marriage as a prim and proper good girl should. “… it probably comes as quite a shock to learn that Iactually possess a conscience, Venus, but I do, and it won’t let me have you till we’ve squared off what’s plaguing it.”
He reached for the drawer in his nightstand and retrieved something, his handsome face suddenly serious. “I’ve been trying to pretend it doesn’t matter, that it didn’t happen, but this has been bothering me all week. After making the mistake of not telling you about this place when I should have…” He gestured around him. “And if what is happening between us is what I hope it is, I want no more mistakes. We can’t start our life together with secrets that’ll fester. This—us—has to begin with a completely bared hand.” He passed her a playing card and waited for her to look at it.
“The queen of hearts?” A very battered queen that had obviously been used a lot.
“Yourqueen of hearts, Venus. The one you still had left in your hand to play when we wagered for buildings.” His shoulders slumped in defeat. “The queen that would have trumped my lousy jack if Diana hadn’t gone into labor.”
Armed with that knowledge, it sat like lead in her hand. “I assumed Dalton had cleared it away.”
Galahad shook his head. “I did, and I’ll admit I hoped you’d all think that the servants tidied it up and that the outcome of the game would always remain one big mystery.” He wiggled his hands by his face. “The rematch that never was. With neither of us truly knowing which of us was the better player.” His palms landed heavy on his thighs. “Except I knew. I knew you’d had me before that game ended…”
“I shouldn’t have distracted you as I did. Seducing you so overtly wasn’t fair.” Vee winced as she was forced to recall all the lengths she had gone to in order to keep his eyes anchored on her cleavage. “It was tantamount to cheating, and I’m sorry.”
He reached for her hand and laced his fingers through hers. “You didn’t cheat. You used deflection and artful deception, the same as I did when I took your book. You worked out my Achilles’ heel and you exploited that.”
“But your Achilles’ heel wasme…” Except it hadn’t been just his desire for her she had been exploiting. It had been his feelings, she now realized, which she supposed made her no better than Lord Argyll, who had exploited hers so ruthlessly. Used all the flowery words and empty promises it had taken to get her into bed.
He watched the war waging on her expression and smiled. “You did nothing that any professional card player wouldn’t have done in a heartbeat, so don’t feel bad about it. In a funny sort of way, it’s done us a favor. Because now that I am honor-bound to sell you my building, there’ll be nothing whatsoever standing in the way of us being together.”
Vee didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what to think. To do. The hope and longing in his eyes overwhelmed her. The sacrifice he was prepared to make choked her. “But it is your dream, Galahad…”
He shook his head. “You’re my dream, Venus. Anything else is a bonus.” He kissed their entwined fingers, then leaned in to kiss her. Soft, long, and lazy until he smiled against her lips, using just the pressure of his mouth to push her backward. “Now, where were we before my conscience got in the way…?”
Vee had no clue beyond being a melted but confused puddle on the floor. But his sacrifice felt wrong. Unfair. Unfair enough that she tore her lips from his. “I am not sure if that’s what I want.”
He pulled back, hurt. “You don’t want me?Us?”
His expression was so tragic, she looped her arms around his neck and kissed him. “I don’t care about the stupid building. I only want you—despite all your masks and closely guarded secrets.”
“I’m not wearing one now.” That was plain as day in his eyes. For the first time she could see everything in them. For the first time in her life, she also saw love. It shone through his desire and burned through the last remnants of her defenses. “I’m not even wearing any clothes, so what you see is what you get. As for the secrets…”
Delightfully awkward in his vulnerability, he pulled the covers over his lap. “They’re not so much secrets as things I prefer not totalk about. I’m not accustomed to sharing confidences—” He glanced down, as if even admitting that much scared him. “When you’re left to fend for yourself, you never show others any weaknesses to exploit.”
“You think that I would exploit them?” Seeing as her fingers itched to touch his beautiful body, she allowed them to trace the defined shape of the distracting muscles in his arms. Muscles she knew came from a lifetime of hard work and struggle.
His gaze followed their progress, heating again until the gold flecks in his green irises turned molten. “You’ve already exploited my desire for you, witch. You already know that I want you so much, I can barely think straight half the time.”
“That’s not a bad thing.” The pads of her fingers learned the contours of his chest, whispering over his nipples to follow the dusting of dark-blond hair that arrowed down his abdomen. She kissed his neck, below his ear, and smiled when his heartbeat quickened beneath her flattened palm. “I rather like witnessing the effect I have on you.”
