Heartless Hunter (Crimson Moth, #1) (91)

He could also say, without a doubt, that he wanted to do what they’d done again.

And again.

And again.

His chest knotted. This feeling she stirred in him—not desire, but something deeper—scared him a little. It felt like a tethering. Like he’d given her a piece of himself tonight, maybe long before tonight, and in doing so, handed her power over him.

The last time he’d done that with someone …

Gideon smothered the thought.

“Had your fill of me?” he asked while she gathered the rest of her clothes.

Rune froze like a mouse sighted by a hawk.

“What? No, I …” Her voice sounded strange. Unsteady.

Gideon moved to the edge of the bed. “What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing,” she said, hugging the bundle of leathers. Gideon lit the lamp on the bedside table and got out of bed. “It’s just that I should go home. The servants will worry.”

But Gideon knew that Rune regularly attended the parties of other aristocrats. Parties that often ended at dawn. The servants of Wintersea House would be used to their mistress coming home at all hours of the night.

In the lamplight, he saw the shine of tears in her eyes.

Standing now, Gideon stayed where he was, wondering if he’d caused this. Had he misunderstood, somehow? Maybe she’d wanted none of it.

“You’re afraid of something,” he said. “Tell me what it is.”

She bit down on her lip.

Gideon wanted to close the gap between them, take her face in his hands, and tell her he’d protect her. But he held himself still.

“You,” she whispered. “I’m afraid of you.”

His heart sank like a stone.

“Me?”

She backed up a step. “The way you make me feel is …” She hugged the bundle of clothes tighter. “I’m afraid it’s something I could get used to. Something I could need.” She shook her head. “I’m afraid you’ll be the end of me, Gideon.” And then, much more quietly: “Maybe you already are.”

She seemed to truly believe this—that he had some strange power to crush her.

Did she think he was using her?

Aren’t I using her? he thought, remembering his conversation with Harrow.

Hadn’t he brought her into his bed to prove she wasn’t a witch?

No, he thought. That was merely his justification for taking what he wanted and not caring if it hurt his brother.

The sudden thought of it—of what he’d done with the girl Alex loved—felt like a punch.

Gideon clenched and unclenched his fists. He stood at a crossroads here. Two clear paths lay before him.

The first road was the one he’d meant to take all along: pretending to court Rune in order to catch the Crimson Moth. That road was always going to end with Gideon letting her go—to the purge, if she was a witch; to Alex, if she wasn’t. It was the higher road. The road that allowed Gideon to keep his conscience intact. To stay on it, all Gideon had to do was end this charade.

But now there was another road open to him. This one had Rune standing on it, telling him that she was falling in love with him. That this wasn’t pretend for her.

The right thing to do, the noble thing, was to choose the first road. To end this tonight. All Gideon had to do was lie and say he didn’t feel the same way.

But Gideon wasn’t noble. And he didn’t do the right thing.

Because he wanted this.

“I’m scared, too.”

She glanced sharply up at him.

Gideon had kept to himself these past few years for good reason. He’d made himself vulnerable with Cressida, and she’d taken that vulnerability and used it as a weapon against him. He needed to be careful. He couldn’t let just anyone in.

“What if I asked you to trust me?”

Rune looked like she might burst into tears at the question. “You want me to trust you?”

“We could trust each other,” he said, stepping toward her.

From the look on her face, she thought this a difficult, if not impossible, task.

“Do you trust this?” He leaned in to kiss her temple. Her pulse responded, beating out a frenzied rhythm. “Or this?” Pushing back her hair, he brushed his lips against the sensitive skin behind her ear, making her quiver. “What about this?” He pressed his hand between her hip bones, moving slowly downward.

Her breathing changed, becoming shallow and rapid. She softened beneath him, melting fast. Like she was ice and he was fire.

Why did it feel this good to please her?

“I want all of you, Rune.” Gideon kissed her brow. “Not just tonight, but every moment from now on.”

“I want that, too,” she breathed, tilting her head back. “But how would it work? Help me imagine it.”

Gideon smiled as he thought about it.

“Every day, after my shift ends, I’ll come home to you, and we’ll cook dinner together.”

“I have servants for that.”

He nipped the tip of her nose. “You’re ruining this fantasy already.”

“Sorry,” she whispered. “Go on.”

He continued, trailing kisses across her bare shoulder. “Every night after dinner, we’ll take a long walk through Wintersea, and I’ll pick you a bouquet of wildflowers, and we’ll talk … or be silent. I don’t really care, as long as you’re next to me.”