Garden of May

Chapter 76

As the policeman walked away, Vanessa turned to River Ross. “Theo… as in, Theodore?”

Theodore, who had also been watching the officer, flinched, his breath catching in his throat. His relaxed posture stiffened, the air around him seeming to crackle with tension. He lowered his head, his movements strangely rigid, and looked at her. “…What?”

“The signature you just gave. That spelling is short for Theodore.”

After all that serious contemplation, that was her conclusion. Oblivious to the effect her words had on him.

“So, Theo.”

It was just a nickname, yet it set his nerves on edge. No one had called him that since he was ten. Not even his grandmother dared, even when furious with him, he was always “Theodore.”

A proper head of the family couldn’t be addressed so casually. Theodore swallowed, his throat bobbing. Vanessa, watching with curious eyes, smiled knowingly, as if she understood everything, when in reality, she knew nothing.

“How long have you been planning to use that name?”

He swallowed, acknowledging the strange, unfamiliar flutter in his chest. He could have used any name, even “River Ross.” But the deliberate use of a vestige of his true name was a selfish impulse.

He wanted to hear her, those small lips, utter his name. Because those who used to call him that were gone.

“A very long time.”

Such a trivial reason.

“Just how long have you been planning this charade today? You even had a fake name prepared.”

He grabbed her hand, a sudden urgency gripping him. A car, a carriage… he needed to find somewhere, anywhere, to be alone with her. Now.

Vanessa, led by his hand, wore an innocent expression, still convinced he was “River Ross.” Unaware that he was her childhood friend, and the cruelest deceiver she had ever known.

That’s why she so readily followed him to this deserted area.

At the entrance to a darkened alley, Theodore grabbed her wrists and pushed her against the wall. Startled, Vanessa’s eyes widened as she looked up at him. A primal satisfaction surged through him at her easy submission.

“River, why…”

Her wide, grey eyes reflected his own image—awkward, clumsy, and feverish with a desperate intensity that surprised even him. He tightened his grip on her.

“Vanessa.”

He wanted to touch her, to press against her, to feel the beat of her heart against his. He wanted to intertwine their lives, even if only for a fleeting moment.

He could feel her pulse quickening under his gaze. Adorable. Lovable, even. He had to bend down considerably to reach her ear.

“Cyrene.”

He used the name reserved for her family, mirroring the deception she had inflicted upon him. Her beautiful face contorted, as if about to cry. He could see it clearly even in the dim light—her trembling eyelashes, her suddenly rapid breathing, the flush on her cheeks. He could almost feel the emotions swirling within her.

He lowered his head and gently captured her trembling lower lip. A light touch, a teasing exploration without the entanglement of tongues. And from there, the fire began to spread.

“Wait, just… a mo…”

“Why?”

“People… they can see…”

“They can’t.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m blocking them with my body.”

Her small, warm body, heated by the summer air, fluttered against him. Her flushed face was intoxicating.

“My Cyrene.”

Her smudged makeup was utterly captivating. In this moment, he would gladly commit any foolish act for her.

He gently pressed his thumb against her reddened lips. One call to Lyndon’s butler, and the thief and her belongings would be in his hands within two hours. Would she smile if he returned them? A bright, radiant smile like before? Or…

“Sometimes… you’re too much for me. Everything about you is bigger.”

Her innocent complaint shattered his train of thought. He devoured her lips in a hungry kiss, and at that very moment, fireworks exploded overhead, announcing the start of the circus.