Chapter 66
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 66
For once, Vanessa didn't immediately yield to temptation. Though her cheeks flushed hot and she bit her rosy lips, her eyes, staring straight at him, were clearer than ever.
"River Ross."
The corner of his mouth curled upward. He knew she wanted to say his name; she didn't have to be so formal every time.
"Are you angry?"
Caught off guard, Theodore was momentarily speechless before letting out a low laugh. She had a way of showing unexpected depth and insight at the most surprising moments. At this point, it was almost admirable.
Even so, was he angry? He wasn't sure. He just found the situation frustrating. If things had gone according to his original plan, he’d had no intention of revealing himself to Vanessa today.
Hadn't he set up all kinds of safeguards to watch over her in his stead? The necklace, the naval officers following her at a distance, the crew members stationed everywhere she might look, and even going to the trouble of moving her to a spacious, comfortable cabin…
That should have been enough. It was more than enough preparation for a single woman, especially since he was attending this event as a mere naval officer.
The invitation sent to the Duke of Battenberg had been officially and politely declined. Naturally, his name wasn't even on the passenger list, which spared the King the trouble of attending the departure ceremony. It was a strange, face-saving gesture, as if the King couldn't deign to attend an event the Duke himself had declined.
Considering how much the King had been looking forward to boarding the SS Bellus—the largest ship on the continent—it was an absurd display of stubbornness. Still, considering the trouble the King's presence would have caused, it was for the best as far as Theodore was concerned.
The reason he had boarded this ship under a hidden identity was neither for Vanessa nor for honor, but solely for business and politics.
It was a gathering of all the influential families of Ingram. An opportunity to handle all the business restricted by his stay in Gloucester, all in one place, was rare. He had to treat every second like an hour, and if everything had gone according to plan, he should have been having a private audience with the Prime Minister in a restricted inner chamber right now.
And yet, as if his control had slipped, he couldn't bring himself to look away from her deathly pale face.
How ridiculous.
Sometimes, his eyes drifted to her without him even realizing it. The way she wandered the third-class deck, completely unaware that she could be seen from above; how she ignored all manner of fine dishes to snack on cheap junk; the way she crouched on the dirty floor to help a maid.
Every time he checked on her between conversations with the assemblymen, she was so busy. And even though she had no idea he was watching, the fact that she’d brought up Logan Dawson proved she was sharp in her own way.
"Perhaps."
When he finally affirmed it after a long silence, her cheeks flushed a deeper red. Not a single gas lamp was lit; the only thing illuminating the dark room was the moonlight spilling through the open porthole. That pale light slanted across their shoulders.
"Did you do that because you were worried about me?"
"Worried?"
He slowly bent down and gathered the crumpled papers scattered on the floor. After staring at the will for a moment, he folded the paper along its creases. His movements were perfectly precise as he placed it on the console.
She watched him as if engraving the sight into her memory, a sudden blush coloring her cheeks.
"If not, then… never mind. It's just, you've been acting strange lately. It made me misunderstand."
"Strange?"
"Well… because you keep looking at me with those eyes…"
"What kind of eyes?"
Vanessa didn't answer immediately. He cupped her chin with his large hand and tilted it up. Her light gray eyes, fluttering like a pinned butterfly, stared up at him.
"To me, it feels like…"
Her voice was a small whisper. As he leaned down to hear better, their breaths drew close. The air vibrated softly every time she parted her lips. All his senses focused entirely on this tiny woman.
Theodore’s right hand, which had been caressing Vanessa's pale cheek, slowly wrapped around her neck, applying gentle pressure. The faint pulse throbbing against his palm was, as always, frantically fast. Just as always, she couldn't hide a thing from his touch.
She was a woman so fragile she couldn't even put up a proper resistance if he were to choke her like this. Yet, despite that fragility, she trusted people fearlessly and refused to compromise her principles.
If he was angry, that was why. It wasn't because of some bizarre rumor involving Logan Dawson. He was angry at her recklessness—risking her life over nothing. Angry at her naivety—sending letters to gang-affiliated companies without a clue of the danger. And angry at her weakness—like a newborn cub that didn't know how to bare its claws.
"Ah…"
Vanessa's breath hitched, as if remembering the time he had pinned her beneath him. The tip of her ear, peeking through her hair, flushed red. Even her trembling breath was lovely. Even to his eyes, which had seen every kind of treasure imaginable, she looked precious. Would others see her any differently?
"Marriage is a bit much."
There had been no bluff or exaggeration in the words he had spoken to his cousin. That was an issue he could not compromise on, even in moments when Vanessa felt so right.
The Duke of Battenberg could only acknowledge a mistress if her existence wouldn't become a fatal weakness. He could never place anyone on the same level as his family.
That was why it was better that she didn't know. He wanted Vanessa to remain spotless, even after the complicated affairs and inevitable public criticism had passed. He wanted her to look at him with that clear face, her eyes shining with curiosity for the world, just like now. And he wanted her to be there, unchanged, whenever he needed her.
Always, in that Garden of May.
"Tell me, Vanessa."
"Because now, I feel like you're thinking about our relationship seriously…"
He let out a low laugh. She was still a hopelessly brave romantic. Theodore slowly lowered his head and buried his forehead in the nape of Vanessa's slender neck.
Is this love? He still didn't know. Probably not. The love he knew—and the marriage that came from it—was like foolishly swallowing shards of glass. It was a kind of madness. Destructive moments, hatred and curses spat like poison, shattered furniture, mockery, hysterical laughter and tears, and the animalistic lust that followed some desperate plea.
Love was an obsession that ran terrifyingly deep. Even if it started nobly, the end was always the same. They would end up hating each other, or at the very least, sick and tired of one another.
He could hardly imagine Vanessa doing such things to him. If that was love, then what they had couldn't be such a grand emotion, could it?
"I'm sorry if you felt that way."
His world was divided by a simple logic: things that caught his interest, and things that didn't. Vanessa was both.
She was interesting because she was unique, yet gentle enough that he didn't need to shower her with constant attention. She was upright and kind, like a tree that wouldn't easily break. And so, sometimes, he needed reassurance. Even with her right here, within his grasp.
He readily admitted it. He wanted to possess every single part of this woman—a desire so raw it was hard to dress up in other words. Right now. This instant.
"I want you, Vanessa."
He kissed her white neck, as if checking the leash he had put on her. In truth, thinking had been unnecessary from the start.
Summer wasn't over yet, and the woman before him was captivating.
* * *
The woman looking up at him, her vision blurring as she blinked, was breathtakingly beautiful. Her soft body, her warmth, the wet moans she tried to suppress, her breasts bouncing wildly with every hard thrust.