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t w e n t y f o u r

He tilts his head to study me, that single strand of hair that hangs over his forehead caressing his lashes. "You're speaking real prissy, princess." He points out. "I almost don't understand you." The arrogance in his tone births a fury within me, burning blood rising to my cheeks as I battle back the quiver of my frustrations.

"Understand this – you're a buffoon. An utter idiot for coming here today." I shove him lightly on the shoulder.

He sighs dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. "Tell me what you really think."

"I think you're acting as though you're invincible!" I exclaim. "All it takes is for one of them to see your scar, for them to request something of you when I cannot help. If they find out who you are, they will have you arrested." I try to stress, but he doesn't seem all that concerned. Instead, he grins, cocking a single brow.

"You're worried for me, yeah?" I lift my hands in exasperation. "You know, you're quite attractive when you're all fired up." With a guffaw, I turn to leave.

"You are incorrigible, Mister Kian." He grabs my hand, pulling me so that I stumble into his chest, our faces inches away.

He lets his eyes dart across my frame, before settling back on the cool blue of my eyes. "You look beautiful." He says simply and that is all it takes for me to flush again, though this time from flattery, as it quickly extinguishes the lasting embers of my anger and alights my undeniable desire. "Big princess dresses have never done it for me before, but you've changed that."

With a heavy exhale, I raise my hand and push aside the free strand of hair that hangs over his forehead. "You make suited attire look rather desirable; I must admit." He grins, then presses his lips to mine, a chaste kiss before we part. "You are far too daring."

"The rush makes it worth it," he winks, kissing too the very tip of my nose before pulling away from me and heading towards the door. "Better go pour some Lafoot, hadn't I?"

"Lafite." I stress, though my lips quirk in amusement. He waves a blasé hand to disregard my statement, then leaves me in the wine cellar. That boy will most certainly be the death of me.

As dinner draws to a close, the six of us transition into the back room, one with sofas seated about the coffee table which is scattered with brandy and gin. My mother and Lady Devyn sit on one, engaging in polite exchange. My father and Sir Hernan on another, cigars in one hand and a scotch each. Then, of course, Eason and I on the third sofa, not speaking at all. How could I possibly when all I am concerned of is the whereabouts of Kian?

"Might I excuse myself?" I eventually ask, seeking my father's approval. He casts a glance to the watch on his wrist and then flicks his hand to prompt my departure. "Thank you for this evening, and once more, it's been my pleasure to finally meet my future in laws."

"The pleasure is ours. Goodnight." Hernan replies. I smile at him, turning on my heel to leave, but Eason standing has me falter.

"I'll escort you." He says, though it sounds more of a demand that a request. Once more, I look towards my father, who nods his head once in finality. With a clenched jaw, I accept his offer.

We walk in silence, right to outside my bedroom, where I wait patiently for him to leave. He makes no move to do such. "Thank you." I eventually speak, hoping that he takes that to be his prompt. Instead, he raises a hand to my bare shoulder, and I shiver. Not in the same way I do for Kian, but in repulsion. Naturally, I pull away, hoping my downcast eyes will not invite question. Never have I been that lucky.

"You will have to become familiar with my contact soon." He tells me, proceeding them to move the hair from my face. "I cannot restrain myself forever."

Such sentence sickens me, and I take a grand step away. "I am not a toy at your disposal. You will restrain yourself until I decide I am ready for your contact. For as long as my heart beats, the choice is mine, and mine alone." His jaw twitches in frustration and he laces his hands behind his back. Still, he leans forward, letting the space between us lessen once more.

"Once my surname is yours, you belong to me. Heart beating, or not." Swallowing thickly, I edge towards my bedroom door. "You ought to be kinder to your fiancé. Especially one that knows of your forbidden dalliance with the butler downstairs."

In a heartbeat, I bleed cold. My face pales, my hands fist to hide the clammy sweat that rests upon my palms, and the fine hair on the nape of my neck raises in warning. He knows, not everything, but still, too much. Seemingly satisfied with my worrisome response, he smiles cynically. "You need not worry. I will not utter a word. Goodnight, my wife."

He walks away, but I cannot move, wholeheartedly petrified with what this means. I do not trust Eason, and now, I fear that my secret will not remain one for much longer.

Dun, dun, dun.
Also, can I just say, I hope someone appreciates my Lafite joke because I honestly find it fucking funny.