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His gut twisted. “You knew what I was when you married me,” he said coldly.

She nodded and stood up, walking toward the table. He let himself stare at the back of her lovely neck one last time before he let a cold numbness take over.

“I think I’ll take Barty Ewell as my first lover,” she said conversationally, picking up the bottle he had abandoned. He stiffened and took a ragged breath. She sniffed at the bottle. “What is this?” He did not even know. He had drunk two glasses of it and not tasted a drop.

When he did not answer, she poured herself a splash in the same glass he had used. Her hand didn’t even tremble, damn her. “Harold doesn’t really appeal to me anymore,” she mused. “It turns out I like something a bit … rougher.”

Clem felt his gorge rise. “You will not touch that bastard while I’m still living,” he seethed.

“Who?” she asked lifting a brow. “Barty?” She tipped her head to one side and considered him a moment impartially. “No, perhaps you’re right. Ruby would likely scratch my eyes out too. I should probably wait for Paris before I embark on my trail of debauchery.” She tipped her head back, then slammed the glass down on the table, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth. “My, my,” she choked, her eyes watering. “That stuff is … quite something.”

“Pour me another,” he said tightly. He would take a pull from the bottle, but he wanted his lips to touch the glass the same spot hers had. It would be the last time he got to taste her. The thought caused him a blast of almost physical pain. What the fuck was wrong with him?

Theo obliged at once and handed him a brimming glass. He took it and turned the glass before tipping it into his mouth. She watched him without comment. “Mr. Pfeiffer is French, is he not?” she asked brightly, and Clem saw red.

Flinging the glass to the floor, he crushed it under his heel as he yanked her into his arms. “Don’t fucking push me, Dora,” he growled, seconds before his mouth slammed into hers. She accepted his tongue, and he shoved her backwards toward the wall.

She did not even try to resist, wrapping an arm around his neck and molding her body to his. “You’re the one doing all the pushing,” she pointed out breathlessly. “Trying to push me away.”

He ignored the words, which were as annoyingly perceptive as ever, and concentrated instead on the tremor of emotion in her voice. He closed his eyes and rested his brow against hers. “You deserve better than me, Dora.”

“Clem,” she said, “I refuse to let you be tiresome about this. And it’s not just me that’s cross with you. Jim is spitting mad.”

He gave a short laugh. “Did you listen to a damn word I said to you?”

“Very little of it,” she said briskly, “was worth listening to.” He huffed, turning his tired face aside. Theo reached out and caught his chin, turning his face back to her own. “What do you want me to do? Fly into a temper that you had no faith in me? Challenge you to a duel? Weep into a cushion, maybe? Hmmm?”

“Not weep,” he said quickly. “But—”

She reached out a hand and struck him sharply on the right cheek. “That is for not believing in me, Clem Dabney!” He caught his breath and stared at her. She leaned slowly forward and kissed a spot on his stubbly chin. “And that is for giving me my big break anyway. What now?”

He held her challenging gaze for a moment before he swallowed. “Do it again,” he muttered, turning his face to present his other cheek.

Theo hesitated only a moment before delivering a stinging slap to his left cheek. “That is for grossly deceiving me,” she said briskly. Then she leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose. “And thatis for having my back in any case.

His breathing quickened. “You can’t just forgive me like that,” he muttered, his gaze falling away.

“Who says I cannot? You have a checkered history and a shady reputation, but I don’t worry about either of those. What’s another transgression between friends?”

“We’re not friends!” he said through clenched teeth.

“Lovers then,” she suggested lightly and watched his expression turn furious.

“You’re my wife, Theodora!” he exploded, his chest heaving. “Make no mistake about that.”

“Yes,” she agreed blithely, “but since you don’t deserve me at all, I think we should start again from scratch.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” he fumed, releasing her and striding across the room to put some needed space between them. He stared moodily out of the window at a gray, cheerless day outside.

“Does your head hurt?” she asked sympathetically.

“No, it does not!” It was pounding, but what did another lie matter?

“Good, then if you are feeling up to it, we can get back to the business at hand. Here’s the thing Clem, even if you had no belief in my talent at the time, you still launched me to the public and championed my cause. Won’t you take some credit for that, at least?” He pressed his lips together.

“The entire reason you wanted to get into the theatre business was for another source of income now your boxing career is winding down. A thing which was highly sensible of you,” Dora continued stoutly. Clem rubbed his eyes which felt now like they were burning in his head like hot coals. “And for that you needed me,” she continued calmly.

“You?” he repeated in a raspy voice.