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what I feel when I look at you. In my first year out, two
months into the Season, I tasked my maid to tell me a
series of jokes. We filled a bath. And every time I laughed
my laugh, I told her to duck my head under the water. I
hoped I might cure myself.
He didn t know what to say to that.
 The first few times, it was just funny. And that made me
laugh all the harder. So I asked her to hold my head under
longer and longer.
 No, he breathed.
 Yes. Her voice was sharp.  But it never worked. After
the eighteenth time, I couldn t stop laughing. Not for
anything. I inhaled water into my lungs and was bedridden
for days on end.
 Oh. God.
 What did you think you were doing to me when you
called me those names? When you egged on your friends
to poke fun at me?
 But you were so serene. I wasn t even sure you heard
me half the time. You never  He swallowed his protests.
She shouldn t have to break down in public for him to have
a conscience.
 I ll be the first to admit, Westfeld, that you re an attractive
man. When you re not being cruel, you can be quite
charming. You re handsome. Her voice dropped.  And I m
very curious about what we spoke of the other night.
Such a bare recitation. Any other lady would have gladly
accepted him for half as much reason, and he d be kissing
her already. Too bad he didn t want any other lady. He
wanted this one. He was only beginning to realize how
much.
 But none of that matters. When I see you, I remember
that you made me want to drown rather than be myself.
He d known he had been cruel. But this was the first time
he d really felt it, a deep ache that went straight to his
bones. He didn t want to believe that that could be chalked
up to his account. How could he ever make up for that?
You can t, you ass.
He d never understood what regret meant until now. It
wasn t the pallid sort of wish he d entertained before. He
wished he could reach inside himself and take back what
he had done. He didn t want to be himself any longer.
No words could make it up to her. And perhaps that was
precisely what struck him at that moment. He was always
going to be the man who had done that to her. No matter
how hard he wanted, his past followed him around as
faithfully as his shadow. He would always cast darkness on
her.
 Well, he said eventually.  That s it, then.
She met his eyes. She didn t pretend to misunderstand
him.  That is it.
When a man was nineteen, he felt invulnerable as if
nothing could touch him. That stupid belief had been the
basis of a great many idiotic things that Evan had done in
his life. But this notion that all the hurt he d caused could
simply disappear because he wanted it to that had been
the last childish dream he d held on to. He let go of it now.
What you did when you were young could kill you. It just
might take years to do it.
 We can still be friends, she was saying calmly.
 Just...not anything else.
 Friends.
 Even...even back then, there were times I almost thought
I could like you.
 You are too generous. The words came out sounding
bitter, but he didn t intend them that way. He wasn t bitter.
He wasn t. Friendship and kindness from her it was more
than he deserved. Less than he wanted, true, but&
 I haven t got it in me to give you any more trust than
friendship. I m still not sure I can trust you past three
minutes.
He swallowed. If he d been his young self, he d have
stalked away in a fit of pique, furious that she d thwarted
him. He would have had his revenge upon her for rejecting
him. But he was a great deal older now. And he d cast
enough shadows.
 Good. He leaned closer to her.  Then in three minutes,
we can be friends.
 Three minutes? Why wait three 
 Because friends don t do this, he replied, and leaned
toward her. This time, he didn t put his arm immediately
about her. His lips touched hers. She was still too still
and for a moment he thought he d read her wrongly. But
then she kissed him back.
She tasted like mint and wild honey. She was soft
against him. And, oh, how easy it would be to let his control
snap. To see precisely what he could do in the three
minutes he d given himself.
She liked kissing him. He could tell by the tenor of her
breathing, by the sound she made in her throat as his
tongue traced the seam of her lips.
He could tell because she hadn t slapped him. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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