Eventually, Scarlett had fallen asleep in Leo's oversized bed. The room had been cold despite the fire glowing in the grate, and it hadn't felt right sleeping there without him. But Scarlett had been too exhausted to leave, especially knowing that she would have to walk home. If she was going to have to walk through Mayfair, at least she could wait until the morning light.

She certainly could not ask Leo to escort her home.

So Scarlett forced herself to wake early. The room was still dim; only faint light seeped in through the damask curtains as she treaded lightly from Leo's bed.

Dressing was challenging. Scarlett's fingers fumbled on the buttons of her dress. She attempted to contort her arms to reach her back, wanting to fully clothe herself, but it was useless. As she left Leo's bedchamber, half of her buttons were still undone.

It wouldn't matter. As soon as Scarlett put on her cloak to leave, her dress would be covered until she made it to Humphries House.

Perhaps it was cowardice that she was trying to sneak away without seeing Leo, but well, Scarlett was a coward.

She made it through the hallways and down the stairs without even a creak of a floorboard. But the moment she opened the foyer closet to search for her cloak, a voice cleared behind her.

Alarmed, Scarlett spun around. She was greeted with the image of Leo, watching her through the doors of his parlor. He was sitting by the fireplace, spinning a drink in his hand. His eyes were weary. There was a frosty glaze over them—a stark contrast from the way he had looked at her last night in bed.

"Running back to Eades?" he muttered before tossing the rest of his drink back. He set the empty glass on the table, and the sharp noise it created made Scarlett jump.

"No," she said crisply, drawing herself up despite the inner turmoil she was feeling. "I am going home."

Leo stood and began making slow, measured movements toward her. She was desperate to escape the pained expression playing about his face, and yet, she couldn't move. Scarlett was rooted to the spot.

"Turn around," Leo murmured, continuing his advance.

"Why?"

"Your dress, Scarlett. Turn around," he said, appearing agitated that she hadn't understood the first time.

His tone sparked a response from her, and she spun so that her back was to him once more. Scarlett began to feel his fingers tugging on her dress, redoing the buttons that he had hastily ripped open last night.

"The dress was fine," Scarlett said tightly. "I am just going home, as I said."

"Just tell me this," Leo breathed, ignoring her protest. Scarlett realized how close he was to her, the rumble of his voice sending pleasureful vibrations through her. She longed to lean back and melt into him once more.

"If you hadn't known about the wager at White's," Leo continued, whispering in her ear. "If you hadn't thought I had bet on you, would you still be with Eades?"

"I—" Scarlett hesitated and then shook her head. "I don't know how to answer that, Leo," she stated honestly. There was no scenario where she wouldn't have known about wager; she had created it, after all. She had orchestrated it with the specific purpose of letting Damien win.

Feeling Leo's hands drop from her dress, Scarlett turned back to face him. He was in the process of dragging a hand down his face, shaking his head as he did so. "I've been trying to figure it out all night, Scarlett."

"What?" Scarlett asked, the question coming out as a faint whisper because she didn't really want to ask it. She didn't really want to hear the answer.

Leo dropped his hand to reveal a glower. "Why did you lie to me? Last night you came to the conservatory to tell me that I needn't worry about you and Eades."

Surprised by his dark expression, Scarlett took a step backward and ran into the frame of the door to Leo's study. The corner of the trim pressed into the middle of her back, her recently done buttons digging into her skin.

When she didn't say anything, Leo followed, taking a step toward her. He leaned over Scarlett, resting his hand on the wooden door frame above her. Glancing down, he spoke lowly. "Did you misunderstand what I was worried about?"

Scarlett looked up at him, tilting her head to meet his agonizing gaze.

"You were concerned for my safety, and I wished to assure you that you needn't be," she replied. It was honest. It was the one fair thing she had said.

A humorless laugh echoed in the foyer as Leo's eyes shifted toward the ceiling and then back toward Scarlett. "I suppose you're right. But somehow, I thought your reassurance meant more than that, Scarlett. It would seem that I heard words that weren't there."

"What did you hear, Leo?" As soon as the words escaped Scarlett's lips, she knew it was a mistake. It was a dangerous question to ask.

His head hovered above hers, casting a shadow on her face. He smelled like scotch and leather, intoxicating her just by his presence. His normally vibrant eyes were dim and dark, and they bore into Scarlett.

"That you were mine," he breathed, his tortured, whispered voice wafting over her.

Then he pulled back, shaking his head. "That's what I thought I heard last night. God knows that's what I felt last night when I was deep inside you."

"I felt it too," Scarlett mumbled, the words tumbling out before she could stop them.

Leo's eyes flashed. "But you can't be mine and also be with Eades, Scarlett." He cupped her face, letting his thumb trace the corners of her mouth. Dipping his head, Leo brought his lips toward hers, and Scarlett instinctively closed her eyes.

Their breath mingled, heady and hot, and she knew his mouth was poised to capture hers. If she were to lick her lips, she would taste him. Leo hovered there, maintaining the lightest brushes of contact between their mouths. It stirred Scarlett's insides, making it nearly impossible to resist him. She felt Leo's bottom lip graze against hers as he breathed, "I don't share, Scarlett. I can't share you."

Scarlett swallowed a moan, not letting it escape. She yearned for more of his touch. All of her efforts were focused on not moving, not giving into what she desired. Because her need for Leo was what had gotten her into this mess in the first place. It was time for her to leave; she needed a clear head before she acted upon any other impulses. Scarlett required time to think before she could answer any of Leo's questions.

She turned her head to the side. "Leo, I'm so sorry if I have hurt you. But I need to go."

Scarlett broke away from his light touch, swiveling around to grab her cloak as she had intended to do in the first place. Leo stood back, watching her go.

She had one foot out the door when she heard him clear his throat.

"That night you first kissed me."

Scarlett paused and closed her eyes in rue, her back still to him. Her heart pounded, threatening to overpower.

"I offered you money because I wanted to help you," Leo continued. Somehow his voice maintained a low, metered approach as he spoke. "And you replied that you weren't looking for any kind of arrangement." He hesitated, and when Scarlett still didn't turn around, he added, "Were you not looking for an arrangement or just not an arrangement with me?"

Turning slowly, Scarlett looked at Leo, standing bereft in his hallway. She opened her mouth to talk, but nothing came out. Scarlett had known that the words she said that night would come back to haunt her, but she hadn't expected it to be like this.

"You have nothing to say, do you?" Leo asked, his irritation growing. "You have nothing to say because none of it makes sense, Scarlett! If you weren't looking for an arrangement, you wouldn't have negotiated one with Eades. And if you weren't interested in me, then you wouldn't have begged me to bring you home last night!"

"Just stop, Leo!" Scarlett yelled back, her voice working at last. The thundering in her chest had erupted into a storm. "Just stop thinking about it! I know it is confusing, but I can't be the person you want me to be," she cried. "It's different with you, don't you see that? I can't be that woman who you bed for two months and then discard like all the women who have come before."

Leo reeled backward as if struck. He blinked twice, his mouth gaping open.

"You believe I would discard you? You believe I could discard you?"

Scarlett shook her head, glancing toward her feet. She couldn't bear his expression. "I'm leaving," she muttered.

"Wait!" Leo stopped her again. "But how are you getting home?"

"Walking," Scarlett said, peering up at him.

"No." All of his typical joviality was gone, his face a blank canvas. There was no teasing in his voice, no laughter in his smile. It was just a simple no.

"You cannot tell me what to do, Leo," she bristled.

"You are right. I cannot," Leo said, the defeat in his voice evident. "But I'll have a carriage brought around anyway to take you home. Considering your breathing episode last night, I should hope you decide to ride instead of walk."

Leo spun on his heel then and walked away.

There was no goodbye. And yet, somehow, it felt final.