Two Little Lies Read Free

thousand times,” she whispered. “Such news would kill my father. He did not sacrifice everything to send me to England so that I might become a rich man’s mistress.”
    Indeed, her father had sent her for precisely the opposite reason. But there was no point in saying as much to Quin. It would only serve to make him angrier.
    “Signor Alessandri does not worry about this fast theater crowd his daughter runs with?” he retorted. “He does not care whose eyes are undressing you? And Lord Rothers! Good God, Vivie! His patronage comes at a price. He has bedded half the actresses in the West End.”
    “Well, he hasn’t bedded me,” she returned. “Nor will he. Nor does he wish to. My God, Quin, he was with his wife. What do you think happened? A ménage à trois on Chesley’s dining room table?”
    His mouth thinned, and he moved as if to turn his back on her. “Yes, go ahead. Make a jest of it, Viviana. Make a jest of me.”
    She laid a hand against his chest. “Oh, caro mio, you are so young!”
    He turned back to her at once. “Damn it, Vivie, I hate when you say that!” he swore. “Stop acting as if I’m some ignorant pup. I’m almost one-and-twenty now.”
    “Yes, and we agreed, Quin, at the start of this—”
    “I know, dash it!” he interjected, laying his hand over hers and squeezing it almost violently. “I know. I shall keep my word, Viviana. But I bloody well don’t like it.”
    A heavy silence fell across Viviana’s bedchamber for a time, broken only by the distant clamor of Covent Garden beyond their windows. Eventually, however, she rolled onto her stomach and propped up on her elbows to study him, as she had done so often at the start of their tumultuous relationship.
    Dear heaven, but he was beautiful, this half man, half boy she had come to love with such a breathless intensity. And she realized, quite suddenly, that despite it all, she could not bear to lose him. Even after all the harsh words—plenty of them, on both sides—she could not imagine a life without Quin. But was there any hope? She prayed there was, and not just for herself.
    “Quin, caro mio,” she said impulsively. “Tell me something. Where is life going to take you?”
    He lifted his head from the pillow, and looked up at her strangely. “What do you mean, Vivie?”
    Viviana shrugged lamely. “I am not perfectly sure,” she said. “Have you ever considered…oh, going away, perhaps? Abroad, I mean?”
    “Abroad?” he said bemusedly. “Good God! To where?”
    “To the Continent?” Viviana lifted her brows. “To Venice or Rome, perhaps?”
    He laughed. “Why on earth would anyone leave England?”
    Viviana felt a prick of anger. “Perhaps because it is a stifling, moralizing place?”
    “Vivie, it is my home,” he said, stroking a hand down her hair. “Let’s have no more talk of anyone going anywhere, all right? ”
    “But what of your future, Quin?” she persisted. “What do you mean to do with your life?”
    “Live it, I daresay,” he returned. “What else is one to do?”
    “But have you ever thought that we might—” She stopped and swallowed hard. “Have you ever thought, Quin, of…of marriage?”
    His eyes widened. “Good God,” he said. “To you?”
    She tore her gaze away. “To…to someone that you worship,” she managed to answer. “To—yes, to me.”
    His expression gentled. “Oh, Vivie,” he whispered. “Oh, if only life were so simple.”
    She pressed on, fully conscious of the hurt her pride would endure. “Perhaps it is that simple, Quin,” she answered. “You say you cannot live without me. That you wish to claim me as yours. I ask you, how badly do you wish for this?”
    He cut her a sidelong glance. “Is that what all this hesitance is about?” he asked. “Are you holding out for marriage? Oh, Viviana! You knew I couldn’t marry you when we started this. Didn’t you?”
    Viviana shook her head. “I am not holding out, Quin,” she answered. “It is not