Chapter 279
Gideon’s POV
I needed to get information from Deirdre on Avery’s whereabouts, but she wouldn’t tell me so easily. I tried various tactics, such as claiming that I intended to get revenge on the Rogue King and Avery. Each time, she came up with a new excuse.
She said that she didn’t know which camp they were in. Or that there were too many rogues to take on my own. Or that it had all been a blur for her, so she couldn’t recall the location.
Bullshit. I knew she knew something. She was just being tight-lipped about it.
I decided that the only way to get her to spill was to play sweet, so I did just that. I took her home as soon as I could, silently promising Avery that I would return the very moment I figured out her location.
Back at the house, I took Deirdre to my room. I brought her food and clean clothes, helped her bathe, tended to her wounds.
“It’s so good to be home,” she sighed, sinking deeper into the bath. “I wasn’t allowed to bathe the entire time I was in captivity. It was awful.”
“I’m sure it was.” I watched her, studying her expression carefully from across the room. She seemed rather self-satisfied now like a kitten with a fresh bowl of cream.
She cracked one eye open and smiled at me, extending her hand toward me. “Come get in the bath with me, darling. I’ve missed your touch.”
“So have I.” I bit back the urge to at the words and pushed away from the sink
where I’d been leaning. “But we’ve been through a lot, you and I. Maybe we should… take things slow this time around.”
Her face fell. “Slow?”
“Just at first,” I said. “I hurt you deeply by believing Avery’s lies. It wouldn’t feel right to jump back into things so quickly.” It pained me to say it, but I forced the suggestion out, “How about a date?”
“A… Date.”
“Just you and me. A chance to rekindle what we once had.” I moved toward the door. “I’ll prepare something special for us to do once you get out of your bath.”
“A date,” Deirdre sighed dreamily, sinking into the bubbles again. “That does sound nice…”
1/2
Chapter 279
+25 Bonus
A little while later, Deirdre emerged from the bath, squeaky clean and back to her usual self. She selected an airy taffeta dress that floated behind her as she walked and met me downstairs, where I was waiting with a picnic basket in my hands.
“A picnic!” She clapped her hands together. “I’ve always wanted to have a picnic date with you. How romantic!”
I smiled, although it felt more like a grimace, and took her hand. She practically skipped behind me the whole way out to the gardens, drawing more than one quizzical look. I had informed the household staff of what I was doing, but no one was particularly thrilled to see it. Especially not Avery’s mother, who glared at Deirdre from behind a pillar before disappearing inside.
We laid a blanket down on the grass, and I pulled out the food I’d prepared. All of Deirdre’s favorites-tiny cucumber sandwiches, petit fours, fresh fruit. She dug in right away, savoring each bite.
I picked at my food, watching her carefully for an opening. She chattered away nonstop about how glad she was to be back, how horrible the rogue camp was, how happy she was that we were rekindling our “love”.
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