“Promise?” she asked when he said nothing.
“Hell no.” His smile was boyish, but the heat in his eyes was masculine, and intoxicating.
Violet reveled in all the intense emotions consuming her. She felt bold. Brave. Even a little bit sexy. And while the feelings were unfamiliar, they also felt perfect, as though she’d finally uncovered her own essence.
She laughed in delight at the woman she’d uncovered in herself. The woman who had stared back at her this morning hadn’t been concerned about the fact that Cain’s itty-bitty bathroom made it impossible for her to do her usual hair and makeup routine. She hadn’t been concerned with the way the swampy humidity made her hair frizz and makeup melt right off, or that she had bags under eyes from another late night at the jazz clubs with Cain.
She felt deliciously alive, almost giddy with excitement to see what the next moment would bring, and she knew exactly who had brought about that change. Violet may have set out to transform Cain, but it was becoming increasingly clear that it was she who had changed.
“Okay,” she said, tapping Cain’s arm excitedly. “Okay, I’m going to do it.”
Before Violet could second-guess herself and chicken out, she turned toward a row of balconies, and grabbing the hem of her silk T-shirt, pulled it upward, revealing her basic white bra. Then, as fast as humanly possible, she tugged it back down again, but not before she got a couple of approving whoops. She closed her eyes and laughed as a dozen strands of cheap beads landed at her feet. One even whipped her cheek, but she didn’t care.
She’d never felt this giddy. This free. For the first time in her life, she was simply living, with zero concern as to what anyone around her thought.
“I did it,” she announced gleefully, gathering up some of the beads off the ground, barely noticing they were sticky with beer and who knows what else, and placing them proudly around her neck.
At Cain’s suggestion, she’d left her usual pearls carefully packed away in her suitcase for the day. She’d felt a bit lost without them at first, but as she touched the sticky, cheap plastic yellow, purple, and green strands, she smiled. It was a little nice to be a different sort of Violet, one who could simply be an adult woman who did what she wanted in the moment rather than carefully crafting every behavior to blend into the background, to ensure she never upset anyone.
Cain’s knuckle gently hooked beneath her chin, tilting her face up to his. He didn’t smile, but his eyes were warm. “You said your parents liked adventure.”
She nodded.
“You did them proud today.”
Violet laughed. “Because I flashed strangers? I don’t think that’s what they had in mind for me.”
“I didn’t say they’d want to bear witness to the actual event.” Cain’s smile was gentle. “Just that they’d like knowing this side of you exists. In fact, I think they do know.” He pointed up.
Crap, Violet thought, her eyes welling just a little bit with tears as the realization hit her hard: she loved him.
Violet loved this stubborn, complicated, impossible-to-read, impossible-to-have man in front of her.
He was rough, and gruff, and it made the slivers of sweetness all the more meaningful.
“Hey.” His finger touched a tear on her cheek. “Shit. I said something wrong.”
“No. No, you said everything right,” Violet said, tunneling her fingers into his hair. Then she pulled his mouth down to hers and kissed him in the middle of Bourbon Street.
Cain’s arms were around her immediately, one angling low over her hips, the other wrapping around her shoulders, pulling her roughly against his maleness.
His lips moved gently over hers, and Violet felt the chaotic scene around them fade away until she was lost in Cain’s clean, soapy smell, the feel of his tongue exploring the corners of her mouth, the involuntary sound in the back of his throat when her nails scraped lightly against his neck in need.
Someone bumped into them, jarring their mouths apart with a gasp.
“Sorry!” one of the trio of giggling, tipsy girls called as they stumbled away on platform heels.
Violet was sorry too. Not that the kiss had ended, but that they weren’t alone, that he wasn’t kissing her everywhere.
“Don’t, Duchess,” Cain said with a rough laugh, his thumb pulling at the bottom of her lip, as he watched her mouth.
“Don’t what?”
“Look at me like that,” he said, his thumb brushing over her lip as he scowled.
Her tongue boldly touched the pad of his finger. “Why not?”
He let out a low groan. “Because my place is right around the corner. And if we go back right now, I’m going to have a hell of a time making myself sleep on the couch tonight.”
“And if I didn’t want you to?”
Cain’s expression darkened slightly, and he moved closer, cupping her face. “Duchess, listen to me. All those things you want. The kids, the husband, the dog. That’s not my scene. You understand?”