Page 90 of My Noble Disgrace

I reached for another croissant.

Graham’s hand stopped mine. “No more. I see how you stall to avoid my questions.”

“Avoiding the truth at all costs is what I do, remember?” I quoted his own words back to him.

“Exactly,” he said, “so this new willingness to tell the truth is a little suspicious.”

“What are you suggesting?” I asked.

“I’m suggesting it’s another trick,” he said. “You have something up your sleeve.”

“Look at me, Graham.” I pointed to my clothing. “I’m in an underdress. I don’t even have sleeves.”

“Avoiding the truth,” he said in a singsong voice.

“The truth is, I’m done with this city.” I spread my arms out to the side. “And this might be my way out while keeping Cait and Lachlan safe.”

“You want to leave that badly? Why?”

“Because I’ll never redeem myself. I’ll never be trusted, or respected, or liked, and I’ll certainly never be loved if I stay here.”

“That’s not true,” he said quietly.

“Which part?”

He shook his head, blushing. “I think you could have all of that . . . except maybe trust.”

I tilted my head. “If you think I’m so untrustworthy, why did you only speak out against my father and not me?”

“Maybe I should have. What you did to me was unfathomable. I never would have betrayed you like that—not for the throne, not for anything.”

I met his eyes, my own welling with tears. “I believe you. And Graham, please believe me when I tell you I tried to make it better. Itried.And I’m still trying.”

He took one step closer to me. “My mother told me about what happened before your coronation—how you told her I was alive. Of course, she was furious that you tricked her into making a scene and humiliating herself.” He chuckled. “However, it was really brave and kind of you to face her and attempt to comfort her like that. And the way you want to save Dunn . . . even if I can’t trust you, I can see your goodness.”

“I don’t have much of it,” I admitted. “Everything I do ends up feeling like a mistake.”

Graham looked at me with compassion. “I know how that feels.”

We faced each other, eye to eye, neither of us looking away.

An irresistible magnetism pulled me to him and I stepped even closer, until our noses nearly touched.

“So you don’t trust me,” I whispered. “But could you possibly love me?”

Instead of answering, his arm reached around me in one swift motion, one urgent hand grasping the small of my back, the other sliding up my neck, holding me at his mercy.

My lips fell open and my heart raced. It might’ve been the first time I didn’t mind feeling helpless.

His lips grazed my neck, his mouth moving slowly upward, his breath on my skin, then in my ear.

“What kind of question is that?” he said into my ear, igniting a spark that lit me up like a fire, sending heat from the top of my head all the way down my charged body.

“Please,” I said, reaching my arms around his neck, feeling the curve of his shoulders, wanting his fire to envelop me entirely. “I need to know.”

He tilted his head back and looked at me thoughtfully. “Lies never seem to stop spilling from your lips. Sowhydo I want your mouth so badly?” His grip on me grew even firmer and his lips found mine, his mouth searching my own as if he might find my truths hiding on my tongue.

I reveled in his warm and full lips, tasting his sweet mouth as he explored mine, eager to keep him and his lips on me forever. My body pressed into him, the thin fabric of my slip still keeping me too far away.

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