Page 80 of An Honorable Deception
The trip to London was no longer than it ever was, and more comfortable than usual in the private car, even given its overburdened state. Yet it felt as though he’d been traveling four days rather than four hours by the time the car was unhitched and the “brothers” Barclay had sent to lend a hand had unloaded the supplies into a variety of carts and wagons and he followed the procession to the location Graham had chosen for them.
Another day, he would have taken the time to appreciatethe aging structure, to wonder at how Graham always managed to discover the perfect sets for their work, to try to see it through the eyes of the men who would file through the front doors tomorrow, thinking it a private show for Empire House patrons—one they must attend for a special announcement.
Today, he had one goal, and one goal only. He hurried through the foyer and into the auditorium. When he spotted Lavinia on the stage with Lucy, he jogged down the aisle and vaulted onto the scuffed platform.
She looked up when he landed, but he couldn’t quite read her eyes. Maybe it was the imbalanced lighting—or maybe he couldn’t see through his own hopes.
Lucy, however, was not so conflicted. She grinned wide and ran to wrap her arms about his waist. “Mr. A!”
He hugged her back, then caught her wrists when she made to let go, lifting a brow. “My watch.”
Her grin only went impish as she dangled the pocket watch she’d lifted and dropped it into his palm.
He lifted the matching brow. “Wallet.”
She snickered and handed that back too.
He nodded, knowing well she wouldn’t have kept them anyway. Then he grinned and tapped the end of her nose. “Now. What you are about to see is something you should absolutely never let any man get away with. Not unless you know him and trust him, or perhaps if he’s saving you from a runaway streetcar or meteorite crashing to earth. Understood?”
Lucy lifted her own brows.
Lavinia frowned. “What—”
Her question turned to a squeal as he scooped her up like he’d done when they’d first got back to the Tower, hoisting her over his shoulder and making a dash toward the wings.He spotted Marigold grinning in the hallway backstage as she pointed him toward an empty room.
Lavinia was laughing, but it wasn’t so bright, so unbridled, so free—and that was his fault. His fault the script played out differently this time.
But then, it was a different script altogether. He toed the door shut behind them and then let her slide gently back to her feet—but he didn’t let her go. Never again would he let her go. He framed her face in his hands, rested his forehead on hers, and debated which of the thousand variations he’d gone through on the train were right.
None of them. There was only one right thing, so he did it. He tipped up her face, tilted his down, and kissed her. That, after all, was what she’d said he should do to make it better. He kissed her, and her arms snaked around his neck. He kissed her, and her lips parted under his. He kissed her, and his heart thudded as fast as hers had in the stable, and he felt more alive than if he was soaring on the trapeze.
He kissed her so that she could have no doubt, no fear. So that she would know. And then, when he had to break free for breath, he found the words.
“I lied.”
“What?” Her eyes were so beautifully dazed, so green and deep and vulnerable. That was what had been missing in her gaze these last two weeks—the vulnerability. The openness. The trust.
He kissed her again, soft and quick. “I never got over you. It went dormant, but it’s like those beans they’re pulling out of the tombs in Egypt. Give them a little water, and they sprout to life again.”
“Yates.”
Now he knew why he’d reacted as he had when she saidhis name. Because she said it like it meant more. She said it like it meantmine.And that’s exactly what he’d always been.
“I love you.” He breathed it against her mouth, tasted the words on her lips.
She kissed him, settled her hand on his chest, over his heart. “I lied too. When I said I couldn’t trust my heart, that I’d run from love. What I always meant was ‘unless it was you.’ You, I trust more than myself. You, I know will always catch me up whenever I try to run.”
“Always.” Though he’d done a lousy job of it these last few weeks. He abandoned her lips, but only so that he could trail his over her jaw, to the place beneath her ear that he’d dreamed of kissing for a decade. “I think we need some ground rules, though.”
Her breath caught in a delicious tangle. “Do we?”
“We do. For instance, set hours for Imposters work. You can’t keep the pace you’ve been going, or you’ll collapse. So when you work too long, I want permission to kidnap you.”
“Fair enough.”
He slid his hands down her arms, then settled them on her waist so he could pull her against him. “Time in the gymnasium—that should be together. If you injure yourself, I reserve the right of inspection.”
He pulled back so he could see her flush. Inspecting a lady’s thigh wasn’t exactly proper.
