Page 61 of Untaming Lady Violet
“I will persist. I will until I understand you!” Violet cried out, her pain leaching out. “She is a poor substitute for Grace, but Tristan, Fiona is the closest you may ever get. I see that. I accept it. I can’t even hate you for the attraction you must feel for her. You’ll never have Grace, but you can have someone like her by your side.”
“Do you think I am so shallow as to want a woman simply because of her appearance? There is a great deal more to it than that. More than you can possibly understand.”
“You are right, Tristan. I don’t understand,” she replied quietly. “And I don’t think you even know what you want. Or who you want, for that matter.”
“Well, I most certainly do not want Fiona Blackerby! And I don’t want Grace, either. Goddamn it.” Tristan swore fiercely, raking a hand through thick, dark hair. “The only one I want is you, Violet.You.But what I want and what I deserve are two separate beasts. You really have no comprehension of just how different we are. You would forsake everything all in the name of true love, while I loathe the very thought that sacrifice should be for anything other than the pursuit of pleasure. Perhaps it is better you do not discover my true nature. It is darker and more cynical than you can imagine.”
They stared at one another, the atmosphere charged and crackling.
Tristan’s hands fisted at his sides, a muscle ticking in his stern jaw. His eyes gleamed with shadowy desires and unsaid things. It was as though he stood on the edge of a perilous cliff. Teetering on the verge of snatching her up.
Ravishing her.
Destroying her.
Breaking her.
And she would let him.
“Then take me, Tristan.”
Her words were quiet but forged of iron. She’d made up her mind.
She would have this moment for herself. This flash of madness she would always remember. An ember of warmth she would hold close when suffering the coldness of being William Gadley’s wife.
She would have this for herself. Not for Tristan’s benefit, but her own.
Her chin rose higher. She stood straighter. The tears on her cheeks dried until the only indication she’d even wept was a spiky fringe of wet eyelashes.
“I won’t marry you, Violet,” he snarled.
She met his gaze without flinching. “I won’t marry you, either, Tristan. Not even if you beg.”
Tristan’s hands clenched harder, surprise flashing in his eyes. He looked as though he were on the verge of exploding with… something. Violet just wasn’t sure what.
“If you are angry with me,” she murmured, “for daring to want you, I am sorry for that. What would you have me do instead?”
“Go away before I completely ruin you.”
She nearly smiled at the fierceness of his words. “I’ve no wish to go anywhere other than where I am at this very moment, Tristan.”
“Fine. I’ll go.”
His words were little more than a growl, but Violet recognized them as a peculiar sort of mechanism for keeping her at arm’s length, even when he obviously wanted everything from her.
“If you do, take me with you,” was her earnest reply.
Violet stepped closer, a temptation she suspected he could not resist, her eyes sparkling with challenge.
A curse escaped him, then he was sweeping her against his body again, peering down at her as if she were a mythical creature who’d suddenly appeared in his world. When he spoke, it was with a sad reverence.
“By God, there she is. My sweet, wild Violet. I’ve untamed you at last, haven’t I? To my own detriment, and my shame, I’ve untamed you.”
His lips claimed hers before she could acknowledge that yes, he’d done just that. Transformed her from a wallflower into something wild and free. A creature who would do whatever she desired.
Whateverhedesired.
She kissed him back.
