Page 83 of Seven Nights with the Wicked Duke
But what struck her most wasn't the accuracy. It wasn't even the beauty, though it was impossible to ignore.
It was the reverence in the brushstrokes, the way every detail had been captured with aching tenderness. She looked… radiant. Bold. More alive than she had ever felt in a mirror. And the main point was that Theo had poured his soul into creating it.
"This… this isn't real," she broke out a whisper.
"It's how I see you," Theo said simply, standing behind her, his eyes heavily on her.
She turned to look at him, and for the first time, her voice cracked, her annoyance evaporated without a single trace. "Why?"
He titled his head to claim her state before squeezing his eyebrows, confused by the question. "What do you mean by 'why'?"
Cecilia took a deep breath before gesturing toward the portrait. "I don't look like this," she said, nodding her head. "Not really. You made me beautiful."
"You already are." He sounded almost transfixed, in a silent shock made of a mixture of amusement and confusion. As if he felt she was joking.
"I don't feel beautiful," she admitted before removing her gaze from his. "Not when you told me I wasn't meant to have a place in your life. Not when you pulled back before kissing me?—"
"That's not what I meant." He immediately tried to interrupt whatever notion stuck in her head.
"You told me to leave, Your Grace." But the notion seemed to be well embedded as she shook her head. "After everything, after six nights that meant more to me than I can say, you told me to leave without even looking back. Do you understand what that did to me?" Her voice broke at last, trembling in the stillness between them.
Her words made him close his eyes with a silent sigh. "I was afraid that staying would only make things worse."
"For whom?" she demanded. "For you? Or for me?"
The silence that followed was deafening. All he could do was to stare deeply into her eyes.
"You keep talking about duty and risk and scandal. But did you once ask what I wanted?" she said, her eyes glaring at him. "Or did you think I would recover, marry the viscount, and forget you ever existed?"
"That isn't fair?—"
"No, what isn't fair is you deciding for me," she snapped fiercely, and she could feel her temper from earlier resurfacing. "You keep trying to shield me from the consequences of loving you. But I've already lived with the consequences of not being able to."
Theo looked stunned. Not by her words, but by her presence—her fire. As if, for the first time, he was seeing not the girl in the crimson gown but the woman who had wanted him without ever being asked or forced to. Despite the circumstances.
"I didn't know you felt that way." His voice broke.
"You never asked," she said, quieter now. "And I was too proud to say."
A pause at first and then he stepped closer, cautiously. "And now?"
"I came," she whispered. He was already standing close. Too close. His familiar scent invaded her nostrils, already finding the way to the switch of her brain. "Because I want my seventh night," she added with the most vulnerable tone.
His breath caught at that revelation of hers.
"I want to know what you feel for me, Theo—not what you feel about your life, or your family, or your regrets. I want to know what you feel for me. Because I've spent too many nights trying to guess."
Theo stared at her, torn open by her words, and then he reached for her hand. He didn't pull her close. He simply held it, like a vow.
His touch destabilized her, with the fact that he was completely unpredictable. She wasn't sure what it was he could do or say next.
"I love you."
But in the thousands of guesses that had swirled in her mind, he had confessed the least she had expected. Even if he wanted to, she hadn't prepared herself for him to be so straightforward, bare, and raw.
"I've loved you since you told me you wanted to kiss a stranger," he continued, and the second time proved it was her reality. "And even more when you didn’t shy away from fulfilling your list despite the risks surrounding it. You've always been braver than I ever was, chasing your dreams despite opposition."
Cecilia's lip trembled, but this time, she didn't cry. She didn't even know what to do with the overwhelming emotions coursing through her.
