Chapter 10
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"Theo"
"Theodore."
A flash of old memories flew by in a flash.
Olivia looked up at him, surprised. It was strange to be called Theodore, not by his nickname. They hadn't seen each other since they were children, and there wasn't enough of a relationship left to call each other 'Theo' or 'Via’ anymore.
They stood there for a moment, looking at each other without saying a word. Theodore couldn't figure out why she was looking at him with such a complicated face. Sad, pained... and happy.
And why didn't he turn around and walk away?
There was nothing to talk about with Olivia. It would be tidier to go through the Marquis of Ascensio and his lawyer about the inheritance.
And yet he couldn’t turn his back on her. He couldn't even look away.
She had grown up to be exactly as he had imagined her. She was pale and slender enough to hold with one arm, with features on her small face like a lily.
There were tears in her sad, sorrowful blue-green eyes. It must be because of his father’s death, he muttered to himself.
"I’m not crying."
Olivia replied, running a hand through her long hair.
"It's strange, a man can't cry nonstop, no matter how much pain he's in."
"I see."
"Yes."
He assumed the pain she was referring to was the grief of losing Pavel.
The conversation broke off, and for a while they just looked at each other, speechless again. It was neither the time nor the circumstance for a friendly chat about their childhoods, nor could they share grief worthy of a funeral.
A strange feeling passed between them. No, perhaps it was an illusion. What Olivia needed was comfort and sorrow, and Theodore had nothing to share with her. He must not reveal any of his feelings to her.
She didn’t know what he ran away from home in frustration, or the unjustified anger he harbored toward his father.
That's right. Unjustified anger.
But he didn't have the heart to reveal it and change the world's assessment of his father. By writing about the marriage in his will anyway, his father had proven his innocence himself. Not knowing how it would make him feel.
He turned on his heel and said.
"Go inside, not too late."
As he said that, having finally decided to make another run for it, Olivia took a step toward him and called out.
"Theo."
It was the same name he'd been called as a child. An inappropriate title.
Theodore turned away from her. Olivia took another step toward him and asked.
"Do you still hate me?"
He spoke in a voice barely above a whisper, remembering the conversation they'd had here so long ago.
"Yes."
Now they were close enough to touch with an arm's length. But that was the limit. It couldn't get any closer, Theodore thought, and he didn't want it to.
He was determined not to be swayed by this woman. The last ten years had been enough to make his feet wobble and fall into the mud.
The woman, who had no idea of the filthy thoughts he'd been consumed with during those years of self-loathing and denial, looked up at him with a sour face.
Her full lips opened hesitantly, then closed again. Theodore watched every pucker of her lips as they curled in and out again, as if she were biting down on the inside. The lips open slightly again, revealing the soft insides. The tongue that darted out was soft, like that of a young puppy or cat.
"But you...."
Olivia finally said. Theodore, who had forgotten to breathe and had been watching her lips and tongue, suddenly came to his senses and raised his eyes.
She lowered her eyes as if to avoid his gaze. Her golden lashes glistened, catching the moonlight.
"You...can kiss me, can't you?"
Her tone was unclear, a question or an affirmation.
Theodore felt both anger and passion explode in that moment, and without realizing it, he reached out and grabbed her arm.
The next moment, Olivia was already in his arms. His large hands cupped her chin and the back of her head in a clenching grip, and he devoured her lips in a ravenous kiss.
Her full lips opened without resistance. Theodore slid his hot tongue in, swirling it around the warm, moist mouth. Startled, Olivia's tongue wrapped around his hesitant one, pulling him closer, stealing his breath.
He felt like he was going to go crazy. No, maybe he already was.
Can’t he kiss her? She must not have realized that it wasn't even a question, that she didn't know why he'd left-no, she didn't even know if he'd run away-so she could come up to him so fearlessly and stare at him with such an innocent face.
Heat rises from where they touched, and his cock grew hard between his legs. Her full lips were like flower petals, and he seemed to be biting them to mush. He felt horribly filthy; he couldn't even escape, for he was the muck himself.
He would have felt better if she had resisted. If she had screamed when he kissed her and struggled frantically against him, he would have come to his senses and let her go. After that, they would have gone back to their normal relationship.
But Olivia was panting and, at best, tugging at his sleeve. Theodore slid his hand from the back of her head to her back. He could feel the curves of her body through the hem of her indoor dress and gown. She was just as thin and delicate as he'd imagined.
"Hmph."
An uncontrollable groan escaped Olivia's throat, and the sound jolted her awake.
As she tried to squirm away, Theodore forced her to stand upright in his arms. Their lips parted, just barely, giving Olivia room to breathe, but his hot breath still poured into her mouth.
Olivia's face had turned bright red, and blue tears pooled in the corners of her eyes. Theodore looked into her eyes and wiped them away with his thumb before they could fall.
"Did you really ask that because you were curious?"
"You can kiss me, so why don't you want to marry me?"
"Just because I can kiss you doesn't mean you're a good marriage material, and if you knew what I wanted to do to you, all you'd want to do is run away."
"What do you want to do with me?"
"Why, do you want to marry me, because you'd rather be a Countess than an earl's foster daughter?"
Theodore couldn't tell if what he was feeling was anger or lust. Probably both.
He wanted to make her angry. He wanted to make her run away crying. His anger surged at her for not realizing what he was enduring.
But Olivia just stared up at him, her face still unreadable and serene despite his insults.
"I just want to know, I just want to know what you think of me...."
The night air was cool, but Theodore didn't feel it at all. Heat surged through him, burning his eyes.
He'd sworn he could covet everything in the world and not desire this woman. He wanted her enough to need such an oath, and he hated himself for it.
He had violated her in countless dreams. He had seen her smile like a sunflower being plucked, and he had seen her fall to the floor, her legs spread wide as she cried out for her father.
And still he lust for her, still he loathed himself. It didn’t matter if he said 'no' now, because he wanted Olivia even then, and even if she didn't share his blood, it didn’t change the fact that he was committing a sin from the bottom of his heart.
So it was right to turn away, to pretend he hadn't made this fatal mistake, to leave her here.
Olivia slowly lifted her hand to his cheek. The whisper from her lips was clear and fragrant, like the scent of a lotus flower on the water.
"I am not the Count’s daughter...and I am not your sister."
She was not flirting. But to Theodore, the words sounded like the devil's permission.
Wills, marriages, such thoughts had vanished for the moment. Oaths and disgust faded to white.
He plunged back into Olivia's lips as if he had lost his mind. When she tried to pull away again, as if she'd lost her strength, he pulled away with her, and then laid her on the floor.
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