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“What do you mean?”
“When you look at me, what do you see?”
Was this a trap? If I told him the truth, he’d think me mad, or queer, or lying. “An irritating man in a very fine purple waistcoat.”
“That is what everyone sees. Look deeper, Valentine. What doyousee?”
I huffed and looked away instead. At least the heat on my face could be explained away by the night’s events. “What do you want me to see?”
He rinsed the cloth and dabbed some more at the cut, then brushed his thumb around it, sweeping excess water away, and by God, if he continued to touch me, I wouldn’t need to tell him anything; he’d see the truth. How was I supposed to resist this man? I was weak around him and always had been.
“Do you know what I see in you?” he asked. He switched his attention to the cut on my cheekbone. “A man who perplexes and infuriates. An intelligent fool who knows everything and nothing.”
“Don’t hold back. Why don’t you get it all off your chest?”
His lips quirked around a real smile and it hit me like a ray of sunshine after a storm. There was no use denying it. I cared about him in a way that went beyond friendship—even though we hardly had that. Fifteen years should have been enough for my heart to forget, but it wasn’t. I’d never forgotten him, or what I’d done, or how I’d felt. I’d kissed him because it had seemed like the perfect thing to do in that moment. It seemed like the right thing to do now too, but I’d learned that lesson.
“You are a contradiction,” he continued. “A cog that does not fit, throwing its mechanism off.”
“You like your clock analogies,” I drawled.
He stopped dabbing. The seconds dragged on, and I glanced up, finding his gaze fixed unblinkingly on mine. Had I offended him? He wasn’t frowning so much as keeping his expression perfectly blank. I could only think that I’d put a foot wrong somewhere in this bizarre conversation.
He dropped the cloth and moving away, he drew the privacy screen between us, leaving me unbalanced and confused. Where did I stand with him? Were we friends? Acquaintances? Enemies?
“How can a man as intelligent as you, Valentine, be so stupid?” he asked, out of sight.
I almost laughed again. And we were back to insults. At least with insults, I knew where I stood.
“Will you leave in the morning?” I wandered out from behind the screen and found him running his fingertips over the pages of my open books.
“I can’t leave.”
“You must. I know it will be a wrench, but anywhere is better than here.”
“You misunderstand. Icannotleave, Val.”
“Why?”
“The store is more than my home. It’s my life. My heart and soul reside within it. I’m tied to its very foundations.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You won’t have a heart and soul if you’re lynched.”
His lips twitched around a snarl. “I’m not afraid of small men.”
“Dev… they will not stop. If they don’t kill you for this, they’ll find another reason.”
“Why do you care, Valentine?”
“I just do.” I knew it sounded pathetic, but I couldn’t tell him what my heart ached for him to hear. “It is not right. You shouldn’t have to leave. But perhaps it’s for the best.”
“Like you left?” he asked. “You claim to stand for justice and truth but would have me flee my home like a guilty man?”
“Of course not.”
“Justice and truth, yet you stand there and lie?”
“I haven’t—what lie! I haven’t lied to you.” My heart raced. “My whole reason for being here is toprotectyou.”
