Page 68 of The Viscount's Silent Pugilist

Her fingertip tickled his palm. Desperate to know her name, he concentrated with everything he had.

G E N E V I E V E, she wrote, then met his gaze.

“This game is confusing, Ge—” he stopped himself from calling her a fake name.

“Genevieve,” she whispered.

“Your name is Genevieve?”

“Yes.”

What a relief, because Gen was short for Genevieve. He hadn’t called the woman by the wrong name as he kissed her. He might be a cad, but he had some standards.

“Genevieve,” he said again, letting her name roll over his tongue. “A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

Smiling, she continued using his palm as a canvas, drawing two half-circles that met at a point. A heart, perhaps? Then she formed what felt like aJD, a plus sign, and then aGEN.

“Is that us inside a heart?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

His heart fluttered as if he were a girl with a tendre, as it so often did around her. Dear Lord, what was happening to him?

“I should go,” she said. Before he had a chance to stop her, she left him alone, a melty mushy heap of confusing sentiment.

“Who are you, Genevieve?” he whispered to the closing door.

Whoever she was, she was brave as hell. Running away to start her life over. Climbing into a boxing ring and giving it her all. And most importantly, despite not being of his class and her traumatic past, she’d given him, a man who’d never been able to commit, her heart and her soul.

For the first time in his life, Jonathan knew exactly what he wanted. First thing in the morning, he would offer JacobThurstan a job. But right this second, he would confess his love to the amazing woman sleeping down the hall from him.

Chapter Twenty-Two

That went quitewell,Genevieve assured herself as she hurried down the dark hall to her chamber, hoping she didn’t run into any servants, or God forbid, Lady Davenport.

Jonathan Davenport was falling for her; she was certain of it. There was the gentle tone in his voice, and the way his breath hitched when they were close. As if that weren’t proof enough, there was the soft affection in his gaze, which sometimes morphed into barely restrained passion.

A shiver of delight stopped her in her tracks. Quickly composing herself, she picked up her pace.

She probably shouldn’t have barged in on him, but she’d been afraid someone would hear her knocking, and then discover her lurking outside his chamber. Therefore, she’d charged in uninvited, finding him naked with a pillow covering his manly bits. Heat shot from her core to her cheeks at the memory of his bared limbs and chiseled chest splayed across his bed like a surprise holiday buffet.

Doing her best to remain quiet, she stifled her moan, slid into her chamber, and gently closed the door. As the latch clicked into place, Horatio, who was lying near the hearth, opened his eyes.

“Good, you are awake. I have so much to tell you.”

Horatio yawned and closed his eyes. Within seconds, he was snoring.

Was it terribly rude to awaken a sleeping dog because she desperately wanted to talk to him?Probably a lot less rude than barging in on a naked viscount while he was trying to sleep.

But she couldn’t help herself. She’d been desperate to make sure her voice still worked, especially now that she was cautiously letting down her guard and testing her boundaries.

“Horatio, I told him my given name,” she whispered. “And it felt wonderful. He said it was beautiful.” He had also told her that she was beautiful.

Then, pushing her boundaries to their zenith, Genevieve had drawn a heart. Her behavior had been brazen, but being vulnerable was worth it since now he knew how she felt. There was something liberating about communicating the entirety of her feelings for once. She was so proud of herself that on the morrow, she might test another boundary.

“Horatio, what should I do next?”

He opened one eye and sighed.