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“I don’t think so. I know so.” The rogue seemed quite confident in his words.

“What makes you think that?” she asked weakly.

“Because you never said you don’t. Because despite what you might think, I know you very well. And I might lie by omission, but that’s how you tell the truth.”

Victoria just stared at him. She didn’t have the strength to contradict him or argue further. Her throat constricted, blocking her airways. When she was finally able to breathe again, she asked, “You really think you know me that well?”

He crossed his arms over his chest in a defiant pose and shrugged. “I certainly know what you want more than you do.”

Victoria couldn’t help it; she laughed. Not a happy laugh, but a bitter one. “Do I, by any chance, want to be locked up in a tower with nothing to do but read and eat, while you gallivant about town? Did I, by any chance, ever want to be married to a bastard, to be ostracized from my sister? Because I remember wanting the opposite.”

A light smirk appeared on his lips. “When we met, you were young and naive. Easily led astray by other people’s wants! Marry an English titled lord?” William thrust a single digit in the air. “It was your uncle’s dream, not yours. Return to Russia and lead by your sister’s side?” A second finger joined the first. ”That was your sister’s dream, not yours! Marrying someone for the title and procuring lovers?” He counted the third item on his fingers, then waved his hand to the side in irritation. ”Once more, your sister’s influence. You didn’t know what you wanted, you still don’t! Yet you were ready to set yourself aflame if it meant your family would be warm.”

Victoria’s nostrils flared, her voice trembling with anger. “And are you insinuating that you are better than my relatives? You took away my ability to make decisions by tying me to you!”

“I didn’t take anything away,” he said calmly. “You were the one who wanted to get married. That was the only thing you ever did for yourself.”

Victoria clenched her fists at her sides, her knuckles turning white, and took a step toward him. “And I was a fool to do that! That shows my naivete more than anything you described. I didn’t even know you!”

William’s jaw tightened as he retorted, “You knew enough.”

“You made me think you were everything I wanted in a man,” she breathed.

“The only thing I wasn’t honest about, upfront about, was the fact that I was a bastard.” William took a menacing step. “Aside from the superficial dressing of a title, I am exactly who I said I was, and you wanted me.” By the time he finished speaking, he was less than a foot away from her.

“And being a criminal, blackmailing people for your benefit? Are those superficial dressings, too?” Victoria’s voice dripped with scorn.

He shrugged lightly. “No one’s perfect.”

“I loathe you,” she enunciated, her face only inches away from his.

William stepped even closer. So close that when he spoke, she could feel his breath on her cheek. “Then prove it.”

Her breathing intensified, her nostrils flaring with every inhale. “How?”

“Simple,” he said, then added in a rugged whisper, “push me away.”

Victoria stared at him, her breasts gently brushing against his shirt with every shallow breath. She raised her hands and placed them on his chest as if to push him away. She paused, her gaze dropping to her hands, and she spread her fingers over his body.

She wanted to push him away, she truly did. But something within her halted her actions, and all she could do was bask in the warmth of his skin.

William leaned in, bringing his face closer until their lips were just a hair’s breadth apart. “And do not return my kisses,” he said hoarsely before claiming her mouth in a demanding kiss.

Victoria’s knees buckled, her fingers bunching the fabric of his shirt just to keep herself upright. When he broke the kiss, they were both panting, their breaths the only sound in the room. For a moment, Victoria couldn’t think. All she wanted was to reach out and kiss him once more.

But he disengaged from her and took a step back. “See?”

Victoria pressed the back of her hand to her bruised lips, but no matter how hard she tried, no witty retort came to her mind. So, she turned on her heel and fled.

Chapter 11

Thirty one days before the execution…

Victoria fought the urge to twist her aching neck this way and that as she walked down the stairs, her back straight as a lance, her hand on William’s arm.

She wore her finest gown, and her neck was adorned with a pearl necklace that William had gifted her on their wedding day. She had other jewelry, of course, but she thought it fitting to wear this particular necklace during their first formal outing.

Except, she couldn’t quite enjoy herself because everything ached. The corset was the only reason she was standing upright because her back was sore as well, all because of sleeping on the blasted armchair.