Is it the thought of true intimacy that frightens you?' He asked it nonchalantly, moving a pawn.
She moved her remaining bishop in retaliation. 'Frightened of intimacy? Something which can so easily be bartered and exchanged?'
'Can it? ... If I were to take you to bed now - throw you upon the covers and steal your virginity, do you think that would connote intimacy?'
She stared at him.
He leaned forward, stroking his queen, drawing her along the boxed edges of the square she currently owned. 'Or do you think that sitting here, across from me, sharing your thoughts freely and giving away your dreams...could be a true type of intimacy instead?
He had told Downing that they would let the lady decide. That perhaps it was in Charlotte's best interest to accept and show her father what his actions wrought ... But she had cut the conversation short, said adieu, turned from all of them. Strode directly to her fate without another word.
Not just from pride or anger though.
He looked at her, at the delicate skin of her flawless neck, and smiled. No, her pulse didn't jump like that as a result of pride or anger or fear. Her voice didn't hitch [due to] chagrin at an unfortunate turn of events. That jump, that hitch...what the telltale signs meant...that was why she was doomed.
It is my hope that in the end, we are evenly matched.' ... Being the one in power was desirable in order to put one's pieces in place. To test an opponent. But uneven power grew unendingly boring. And it was why most of his liaisons were short-lived. He wanted someone who waited and plotted, then struck back and made him move and think.
Anne MalloryInstead of finding her in the shadows, this visit would anchor something between them in rising daylight.
Anne MalloryShe thought back to what Roman had said. That the power rested in her lap. The problem was that internalizing that revelation also meant decisions could no longer be pushed aside.
Anne MalloryI wish to pay my debt. To give you the night I owe' ...
'Oh, Charlotte. You play with fire.'
'Do I?'
Roman looked at the woman in front of him, calm and collected, but there was heat there, such precious heat that was straining. Offering.
It took only one second for the words to form and emerge. 'Consider the debt of the night wiped free.'
He saw her blink. Stunned.
Watched the disappointment form. He felt nearly giddy as her disappointment form.
'What, but-'
'But what?' He smiled, loving the look on her face, even the desire that was slowly shuttering - for he would obliterate those shutters with his next words. 'You think I am freeing you? ... I am a selfish man.'
'A selfish man takes what is offered to him.' Was that doubt in her voice, doubt of her charms?
'No, a selfish man destroys what is offered to him and demands more. He demands everything.
I never realized Death was so fleet of foot.'
'The fleetest. Always dancing in the shadows.'
'Always waiting for his next partner?'
'Dancing through a long list until he finds the perfect one.
Never frightening her with anything but her own feelings for him.
Anne MalloryI think we should speak more of my suggestions, Miss Chatsworth.' He tilted his head and looked at the door, then dismissed it and whoever might be behind it. 'Unless you enjoy the spread of ugly rumors?'
'Blackmail?' She twisted her lips ... 'How bourgeois.'
'Actually, blackmail heartens back to the best of kings.
Tell me what has happened in this week that you've been absent from my window.
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