The Gender Game by Bella Forrest (historical books to read txt) 📗

to date. Just let me know the number of hours—you've been keeping track, I assume? As for the motorcycle she came with, can I figure out a way to pick it up tomorrow? If you wouldn't mind my leaving it here…”

"You can leave the bike here," was all Viggo said. His response made me wonder if he was even planning to accept Lee’s money in the end.

Lee thanked Viggo again before pulling me away from the porch, down the stairs and into the rain—much lighter than when I had arrived—toward his second motorcycle, a dark red one.

I resisted the urge to look back at Viggo as he watched us move away. Move away, when all I wanted was to race back and throw myself into his arms. Wrap my legs around his waist and lose myself in him all over again.

But this wasn't a fairytale.

Viggo's and my story was everything but.

I couldn't be sure how long Viggo remained watching us leave, but the light from the gas lamp on his porch still cast shadows as we arrived at the end of the dirt track.

Only once we had joined the road and picked up speed did Lee break the silence.

"I think you owe me an explanation."

I felt his tenseness beneath my hands as I was forced to hold on to him for support.

I wasn't sure what to say. I had betrayed his trust and been caught red-handed. I figured there was nothing to say other than the truth.

"I couldn't help it."

"Couldn't help what?"

"I had to see him. I wanted to stop him from showing up tomorrow. I didn't…" My voice faltered. "I don't want to do this to him."

I expected a barrage from Lee, but instead he remained silent.

And he stayed silent until we reached his home. Entering the hallway, he removed his anorak and hung it over the coat holder before slowly turning around. His face was ashen. His eyes flickered to meet mine.

"Do you…" He hesitated, drawing in a breath. "Do you have feelings for him?"

I swallowed. "You could say that."

"What happened when you were alone in the cabin? Before I arrived? I need you to tell me."

"I didn't say anything, and I never planned to tell him anything about the mission. As I said, my only intention was to keep him away from the lab. But then… I shut up completely because of that damn message you sent me."

From pain and frustration rose anger.

"What did you mean by that message?" I asked him, my gaze turning into a glare. "Why would you assassinate him?"

"You know the seriousness of this mission. I don't need to remind you all that hangs in the balance. For Matrus. For you. For me. We can't afford any leaky holes." Lee's tone had become quite flat, past anger, and drenched in disappointment.

"Why do we need to use Viggo at all?" I demanded. "Why can't we pin this on Porteque?"

"It's too late to change the plan now. The banquet is tomorrow! There's no way we could pull that off in a believable manner with such short notice."

"I'll do it!" I stormed. "I'll find a way!"

"No, you won't," Lee said. "There is no time! And besides, it would be against our queen's orders. Before you even arrived, she and Alastair agreed that Viggo would be the best person. Porteque is too easy and obvious a scapegoat. If you defy them, I doubt they'll fulfill their end of your deal when you return."

My hands balled into fists. “It doesn’t make sense! Porteque might be easier to set up, but there would be fewer potential holes with them than with Viggo. Hell, those sick bastards might even be happy to step up and claim credit for the deed."

Lee's nostrils flared. I could tell that it was taking a lot of effort to keep his voice calm as he replied, "Violet. I repeat: it is too late to be having this conversation. Alastair has relayed the queen's wishes. We cannot change everything at such a late hour. If you want her to keep her promise to you, you're going to have to go through with this."

Exhaling in aggravation, I drove my fists against the wall. The sound made Samuel bark and scamper into the hallway.

"Now I need you to answer a question," Lee went on. "How can I trust that you didn't tell Viggo anything? How do you expect me to believe you now?"

It took more than a minute before I could bring myself to reply.

"Well"—I breathed heavily—"if we're going through with this, you'll see tomorrow, won't you? You can listen to the conversation. You'll hear his response to my request and you'll know that I told him nothing."

Still, his gaze remained on me, searching me.

I dropped down to rip off my shoes, brushing Samuel away as he moved in to sniff me.

"So what actually happened?" Lee asked. "How did you explain your appearance?"

The way he was eyeing me, it was as if he sensed something deeper had gone on. Almost like he suspected me of kissing Viggo. Was that jealousy that twitched his jaw?

But I was tired of this conversation now. Tired of anger. Tired of everything. I wanted to lose myself in sleep. After the workout Viggo had given me, I probably could even coax myself into slumber.

"Nothing happened that would be of any interest to you," I said. "I made up a stupid excuse for why I was there and we waited until you arrived."

Avoiding his gaze, I moved to push past him. But he gripped my arm and pulled me back, forcing me to face him.

"Did he touch you?" Lee’s expression was serious, his blue eyes glimmering in the soft hallway light.

"No," I replied through gritted teeth.

But Lee wasn't buying it.

"Are you sure?"

"I kissed him!" I exploded. "What does it matter to you?"

His lips parted at my admission. "It matters to me more than you think."

"Well, it shouldn't," I shot back, brushing him aside and running to the stairwell. I felt hot tears