Zoe

She couldn’t bring herself to look at him. All evening she met his gaze, openly challenging him, but now it was only when she focused her eyes on the flames that she found the courage to speak.

“Why did you invite me here?” she whispered. “En vérité?” In truth? “Yes, please. En vérité.” She forced herself to look at him.

“Because ever since you arrived, I have been dying to know how your lips would taste, what the touch of your skin would feel like.”

She was appalled to feel an inner surge of answering desire. She lifted her chin. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not in the habit of responding in such a manner to strangers.”

“But we are far from strangers, mademoiselle. You are a guest in my home, in my chamber, by the fire, sharing a brandy with me.”

She didn’t know how to respond. He was right, and yet so very wrong. This was not how it looked. But propriety was about appearance. Measured so, this was indeed a very improper situation. She had accepted a forbidden invitation. What had she been thinking? It wasn’t only the prospect of seeing the Victor Hugo that convinced her to enter. It was the glimpse at his soul.

He shared something with her, something she understood. That kinship drew her like a moth to his flame. She drank the rest of her brandy too quickly, and felt it rush to her head. She just wanted to escape before things got too far out of hand.

Seeing her gulp down the dark liquid, he chuckled. “I hope I don’t make you nervous.”

“I am sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, but I shall not be swayed from my principles.”

She got to her feet and he did, too.

“ You know, I admire you,” he said, “ for your courage in resisting me. But we both know your lot in life.”

Despite the warmth of the fire, she felt a chill. “Do you intend to force me? Is that your kind of courage?”

“I could. No one would question me on the matter.” She started to retort. “But,” he added, “I rather enjoy the chase.” He set his snifter on the little table next to his chair and
went to her. She fell back a step, unsure of what to expect. She braced herself for a rough touch, but all he did was remove her brandy glass and place it on the fireplace mantle.

“Since you’ve been bold enough to enter my room, you could at least grant a man his parting wish.” He took herhand. “one taste, one small taste, and I promise to bid you goodnight.”

Zoé looked down at his hand touching hers. How did she get here? Her heart pounded and she breathed in deeply, exhaling slowly. She had never kissed or been kissed by a man on the mouth. She only exchanged polite pecks on the cheek with her father in greeting.