The Black Swan and the Officer

【18】Shameless Flirting

"Ah, this matter..." He paused and looked at her profile. He waited for her to turn too and look at him. "I told them yes." He saw the disapproval in her eyes and noticed a small pinch of anger.

"When are you scheduled to leave?" she inquired, pretending to be unaffected.

"I will leave London on the fifth. The boat leaves on the seventh." He watched as she counted the days left in her head. A little over a week. He guessed the answer didn't please her, as her brows frowned imperceptibly. Lucian moved to face her and touched her forearm, gently grazing the silk of her glove.

"I won't die, Maeve."

"You cannot be certain of it. And I already told you I didn't care about what happened to you."

"I am almost certain," he declared, ignoring the second part of her remark.

"And to you, 'almost' is enough?"

Before he had the time to answer, she turned around and fled, visibly upset. Lucian mumbled a curse and followed her, ignoring what the surrounding people might think. He tried to make her stop, calling her name as discreetly as he could, but she stubbornly kept going.

When Lucian finally caught Maeve, they were in a deserted corridor. He grabbed her arm, opened a random door, and pushed her inside. She protested with vehemence, disliking being roughly handled like this, but he ignored her glare and huffs. Once the door was closed behind them, he looked around, wondering where they had landed. The room was dark, with only the moonlight coming from a single window to help him navigate. They were in a small study, and as his eyes accommodated to the darkness, he could see more clearly. Maeve was standing in the middle, her arms crossed in front of her, pouting with a scowl. It could have seemed childish or ridiculous, but he found her adorable.

Trying not to let himself soften, he forced her to look at him "I don't know what else I can tell you," he told her angrily. "I will not die. They won't put me on the battlefield."

"Will you be miles away from it, then?"

He winced, knowing she wouldn't find his next answer sufficient. "No. However, I won't be taking risks with the soldiers."

"Then it is not enough!"

Lucian couldn't help but be delighted by her fit of anger and what it meant. She did care for him — substantially — or they wouldn't be having this conversation. His temper vanished at the thought.

He came closer, ignoring her warning glower, and tenderly framed her face in his hands. He stood there, hovering over her, his thumbs caressing her cheekbones, and he felt her anger melt away, like snow under the sun. It wasn't the first time he felt a surge of tenderness for the woman. She was such an enigma, impossible to understand, complicated to decipher. With their eyes locked, he tried to figure her out.

She was too proud to accept they may share something special, and he refused to allow himself to feel things he shouldn't. He was here for John, that was it. However, as he held her like this, her bluest of eyes locked into his, he forgot about her vanity and terrible temper.

Ignoring all the warnings screaming in his head, he bent and kissed her forehead, then lifted to meet her eyes. "I promise..." he said before pecking her left cheek, "that I..." then her right cheek, "will not..." the tip of her nose, "...die."

He concluded his declaration with a soft kiss on her lips.

When he moved up, not wanting to take it further and trying to be reasonable for once, she grabbed his jacket and pulled him down, pressing her lips on his. He grabbed her wrists, in an effort to resist, knowing where it would lead them. When he felt the vertiginous touch of her tongue on his lips, he groaned at the lustful shiver that ran through him, but didn't give in, still trying to get her to release his jacket. She did it again, once, twice, and by the third time, he had forgotten all about his resolution, to let go of her wrists to pull her closer.