Chapter 14

Dawn's pale light found Vivienne in a private carriage racing toward Duke Alexander's city residence. She hadn't bothered to change out of the rumpled gown from the night before; time was of the essence. Every bump of the cobblestone street sent a jolt of pain through her sore body, but she grit her teeth and focused on the looming wrought-iron gates ahead. Lucien's vile touch still burned on her skin in phantom memory. She needed safety—she needed Alexander.

The moment the carriage halted, Vivienne descended and swept past a startled footman at the door. "I must see His Grace. Immediately," she insisted, voice frayed at the edges. The servant, recognizing her at once, nodded and led her through the marble foyer and down the hall to the Duke's study.

Alexander stood by the window, already dressed impeccably for the day in a navy coat, his cravat neatly tied. He turned at the commotion of Vivienne entering unannounced. One look at her disheveled appearance and stricken face, and his expression shifted from surprise to deep concern. He came to her in three long strides. "Vivienne, my dear—what on earth has happened?"

At the gentle sound of his voice, the composure Vivienne had held through the night nearly shattered. She opened her mouth to speak, but a choked sob emerged instead. Alexander immediately closed the door, dismissing the footman with a glance. His arms enveloped her, drawing her trembling form against his chest.

"Shh, you're safe now," he murmured, stroking her tangled hair. Vivienne clutched the lapels of his coat, fighting for words. For a moment she simply breathed him in—the scent of clean linen and a trace of sandalwood—grounding herself in that warmth.

After a long minute, she managed to whisper, "I'm sorry to barge in... I didn't know where else to go."

Alexander pulled back enough to tilt her chin up. His eyes searched hers, taking in the tear-stained cheeks, the bruised bluish mark near her collar, the redness on her lower lip where she had bitten it to stay silent through horrors. His jaw tightened. "Who did this to you?"

Vivienne looked away, shame flooding her. How could she tell him? He, a powerful Duke, would despise knowing the woman he cared for had been abused like a common gutter-girl. But she owed him some truth if she was to ask his help. "It was Lucien," she whispered, voice trembling. "Marquis de Montfort."

Alexander's brows knit in confusion and anger. "Montfort? I was not aware you even knew the man."

Vivienne swallowed hard. "Our paths crossed in the past, before I ever met you. He...he harbors a grudge. Last night he summoned me under threat—he said he would ruin my reputation, reveal things about me if I didn't go. I thought I could reason with him." Her voice faltered as she recalled that futile hope.

Alexander's hands tightened on her shoulders protectively. "That bastard blackmailed you? And then he hurt you?" There was a dangerous edge to the Duke's tone.

Vivienne closed her eyes, unable to hide the quaver in her voice. "He forced himself on me, Alexander. To put me under his power. I-I couldn't stop him." The words spilled out in a rush, and with them hot tears of humiliation.

A muscle in Alexander's cheek twitched. "Dear God." Gently, he guided her to a leather settee by the wall and sat beside her. He cradled her face in his palms, thumbs wiping away the tears coursing down her cheeks. "You did nothing wrong. This is on him, not you. Do you understand?"

Vivienne managed a small nod, though she hardly believed it herself. "He said he'll expose me if I defy him. He knows...he knows things about my past that could destroy everything." Her voice dropped to a fearful hush.

Alexander drew her into his embrace again. "He will do nothing of the sort." The Duke's voice vibrated with a lethal promise. "I will handle Lucien. He'll regret ever laying a finger on you."

Vivienne pressed her face to his chest. Relief and gratitude swelled within her, but also worry. "If he finds out I came to you—"

"He won't have the chance," Alexander interrupted firmly. He gently eased her back to look at her. "Tell me, what hold does he think he has? What secret of your past is he threatening to bare?"

Vivienne's heart stuttered. This was the moment she had dreaded with every lover she'd taken—that her carefully crafted persona would crack. Alexander deserved honesty, especially now, but fear clamped her throat. Would he see her differently? Would he still want her once he knew?

Her hands trembled as she clasped them in her lap. "I have not been fully honest with you about who I am," she began softly. Alexander stayed quiet, listening intently. Vivienne drew a shaky breath. "I was not born to any aristocratic family. My true name isn't Vivienne LaVert. I was...I was the daughter of a merchant. We lost everything in a bankruptcy scandal. I had no prospects. Lucien met me then, and he offered to 'take care' of me if I became his mistress. I refused, ran away, reinvented myself." She lowered her eyes. "Only a handful of people know of my origins. Lucien is one of them, and he holds it over me."

Alexander was silent for a beat, absorbing her confession. He lifted her hand, which was clenched into a fist, and smoothed it open gently. "Is that all?" he asked quietly.

Vivienne blinked, meeting his gaze in surprise. "You... you don't mind that I'm not of noble blood? That I lied about—"

He pressed a finger to her lips to hush her. "I fell in love with the woman you are, not whatever pedigree you claimed. Do you think I'm so proud that I'd toss you aside for having humble origins?" His eyes were tender, though anger still lurked beneath at what she'd endured.

Love. He had said love. The word reverberated through Vivienne, melting some of the ice of fear inside her. A soft sob escaped her, this time of relief. "Alexander..."

He pulled her close. "My only regret is that you felt you had to hide it. These circles are cruel, I know. But I would have protected you regardless."

Vivienne let out a trembling sigh. "You know now. Lucien intends to brand me a fraud and worse—a harlot—if I don't become his. He wants to control me completely."

Alexander's expression darkened. "He will control nothing. I swear to you, I will see him ruined for this." There was a resolve in his voice that sent a shiver through Vivienne—part relief, part the awe of his power.

"Thank you," she whispered, leaning into him. She felt safe for the first time since the nightmare of last night.

Alexander stroked her hair. "I will call on some allies in the judiciary. A complaint can be lodged—though prosecuting a Marquis is tricky without evidence... But at the very least, I can ensure he's socially ostracized and politically checked. And if he ever dares approach you again—" His arms tightened around her, a silent vow.

Vivienne relaxed against him, exhaustion creeping in now that the adrenaline ebbed. "I don't know how to repay your kindness."

Alexander tipped her chin, gazing at her intensely. "Be mine. Truly mine, Vivienne. Leave behind the others." His tone was gentle but earnest. "I cannot bear the thought of anyone else putting you in danger. Come live under my protection. Let me keep you safe."

Vivienne's breath caught. He was asking for exclusivity—perhaps even something akin to a kept mistress or more. It was what many courtesans dreamed of: a stable arrangement, possibly a quiet life as a duke's unofficial wife. She realized in that moment that she wanted that too. After so much deceit and peril, the thought of belonging to someone who cherished her was a balm.

"Yes," she answered softly. "Yes, I will."

The relief and happiness that flashed across Alexander's face warmed her. He cupped her cheek and kissed her—a tender meeting of lips that conveyed comfort rather than passion. Vivienne closed her eyes, kissing him back. This kiss was different from their usual fevered trysts; it was gentle, reassuring, full of unspoken emotions.

Alexander's thumb caressed her cheek as their lips parted. He studied her face. "Will you stay here today? You need rest."

Vivienne gave a slight nod. "If you'll have me."

"Always," he replied, standing and helping her to her feet. He led her out of the study, an arm protectively around her waist, and up the grand staircase to his private chambers.

The Duke's bedroom was spacious and sunlit, decorated in shades of cream and gold. Alexander guided Vivienne to sit on the edge of the canopied bed. A maid appeared at the door, summoned by a silent bell pull. Alexander quietly instructed her to bring hot water, cloths, and a fresh gown for Vivienne from the wardrobe of garments he kept for her visits. The maid curtsied and hurried off.

Alone again, Alexander knelt before Vivienne and took her hands in his. "You're hurt," he said softly, glancing at the faint bruise by her collar and the rawness in her eyes. "Let me tend to you."

His tenderness nearly undid her. "You don't have to..." she started, but he shushed her.

The maid returned with a basin of warm, rose-scented water and soft cloths, then discreetly left the gown and departed. Alexander gently slid Vivienne's outer dress from her shoulders, his eyes darkening as he saw more evidence of rough treatment—slight bruises on her hips and a redness around her wrists where Lucien had pinned her. Though he said nothing, his hands shook with contained rage as he dipped a cloth in the warm water and carefully dabbed at her neck where a small cut from Lucien's collar pin had left a mark.

Vivienne watched him, moved beyond words. A powerful duke, kneeling and tending to her as if she were the most precious thing in the world—it was almost too much. Tears welled again, but this time they were tears of gratitude and love. She placed a hand over his as he pressed the warm compress to her skin. "Alexander...thank you," she whispered.

He met her gaze. "For what? Treating you as you deserve? It is I who am thankful that you trust me enough to come." He paused, anguish flickering in his eyes. "I'm only sorry I wasn't there to prevent this."

Vivienne shook her head and drew him up to sit beside her on the bed. "You couldn't have known. I kept so much from you." She hesitated, then added, "I'm sorry for that. I was afraid."

He brushed a strand of hair from her face. "No more apologies. All that matters is that you're here now, and you're safe with me." He leaned in and kissed her forehead, a soft benediction.

Vivienne closed her eyes, the tension finally easing from her body. Safe. The word was a lullaby. In the quiet that followed, Alexander's hand found hers and their fingers entwined.

After a moment, Vivienne turned to him. Her bruises had been tended, but another ache remained—one that medicine couldn't reach. It was the hollow, violated feeling left by Lucien's assault. She wanted it erased, overwritten by something good and loving. She looked into Alexander's eyes, seeking comfort of a different kind.

As if sensing her unspoken need, Alexander gently drew her into his arms and eased her down onto the pillows. "If you like, rest now. I'll stay at your side," he murmured.

But Vivienne, resting on her back, held onto his hand and tugged lightly. "I don't want to close my eyes," she said softly. "When I do, I… I see him." Her voice quivered with residual fear. She guided Alexander's hand to her cheek, nuzzling into his palm. "Stay with me. Chase the shadows away."

Alexander's eyes filled with a tender understanding. He lowered himself beside her on the bed. "Always," he repeated.

Vivienne turned to face him, her body curling into his. Their faces were inches apart on the pillow. She lifted a tentative hand to his chest, feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart. Here was a rhythm she could trust, far removed from the brutal pounding of last night.

She leaned forward and kissed him. It was a feather-light press of her lips to his, a question and a plea in one. Alexander answered by kissing her back, equally soft. His arm circled her waist, drawing her closer. Vivienne sighed into his mouth, relief and desire tangling inside her. This was what she needed—to feel loved, cherished, and in control of her body once more.

Their gentle kisses deepened by degrees. Alexander's tongue brushed against hers, sweet and unhurried, as though he had all the time in the world to spend healing her. Vivienne let herself melt into it. Her hands slipped around his shoulders, fingers curling into the fine fabric of his coat as she pulled him closer.

When Alexander's hand caressed down her side, over the curve of her hip, she felt only warmth and safety. There was no flash of panic, only an aching need for him. She broke the kiss to whisper, "Make me forget, Alexander… please."

His gaze blazed with love and protective fire. "My love," he breathed, then captured her lips again with more urgency. He understood. He would help her forget in the most tender way he could.

Alexander sat up briefly to shrug off his coat and rip open the buttons of his shirt, discarding them carelessly to the floor. Vivienne pushed herself up and met him in another slow kiss as her fingers went to work on his waistcoat and then his trousers. There was nothing hurried or mechanical this time—only two people undressing one another with reverence. Soon Alexander's clothes joined hers in a heap, and he gathered her against his bare chest.

Vivienne inhaled sharply at the feel of his skin against hers. Alexander was all hard muscle and comforting heat. He rolled them gently so that she was beneath him among the pillows. His blue eyes searched her face. "Tell me if you want me to stop," he whispered.

"I won't," she answered, and to prove it, she guided his hand to her breast. "I want this—I want you."

Alexander groaned softly and lowered his head to kiss along her jaw and down her throat. Each place his lips touched seemed to dispel a bit of the darkness lingering within her. Vivienne let her thighs part as he settled between them, his arousal pressed rigid and warm against her thigh. She didn't shy away; instead she arched her body up, a silent plea for him to continue.

He obliged with exquisite care. His mouth found the tip of her breast, tongue circling, coaxing it to a stiff peak. Vivienne gasped and cradled his head there, fingers threading through his hair. Sensation flared—pure and good. Alexander lavished attention on both her breasts until she was sighing with pleasure.

His hand skated lower, over the plane of her belly, then between her legs. He brushed his fingers through her folds and groaned at the wetness he found. Vivienne blushed, hiding her face against his shoulder. In truth, she was grateful her body could still respond with desire, that Lucien had not stolen this from her.

"So beautiful," Alexander murmured against her ear as his fingers gently circled her sensitive pearl. Sparks of pleasure coursed through her, and she moaned softly. He teased her entrance with one finger, easing inside to test her readiness. Vivienne tensed only for a heartbeat—this was Alexander, she reminded herself—then she relaxed, letting the sweet ache of his finger sliding into her overcome any residual fear. He added a second finger, stretching her slowly, and lowered his mouth to claim hers once more as he pumped them in a tender rhythm.

Vivienne's hips began to move of their own accord, meeting his hand. Heat bloomed in her core, wiping out the last of the cold dread that had lodged there. She whimpered into his kiss, pleasure mounting. Sensing she was close, Alexander pressed his thumb to the nub of her desire and rubbed in slow circles as his fingers curled inside to stroke her sweetest spot.

It was all she needed. Vivienne broke the kiss, a cry of release spilling from her lips as a gentle climax washed over her. It wasn't shattering or fierce; it was warm and calming, like a wave of solace for her wounded soul. Tears of relief gathered in her eyes as the tension left her body.

Alexander kissed the wet tracks on her cheeks, murmuring praises. He withdrew his hand and positioned himself, the tip of his manhood nudging at her slick entrance. "May I?" he asked, voice husky but restrained.

"Yes," Vivienne answered, wrapping her legs around his waist in invitation. "Make love to me."

With a controlled slowness, Alexander pressed into her. Even prepared, Vivienne gasped at the sensation of him filling her, not from pain but from the overwhelming intimacy of it. He sheathed himself fully and stilled, trembling with the effort of holding back. "You feel incredible," he whispered, brushing her hair from her face.

Vivienne exhaled, a tear slipping from the corner of her eye. This time it was happiness that made her cry. She pulled him down into a deep kiss as he began to move within her, a gentle glide that kindled pleasure anew. Their bodies met in a steady, loving rhythm—the polar opposite of the violence she'd endured. Each thrust was measured, devoted solely to her comfort and bliss.

Soft moans and whispered endearments mingled between them. Vivienne wrapped her arms around Alexander's back, nails lightly digging as he hit a particularly sweet depth. He angled his hips and found that spot inside that made her breath catch. Sensation built again, stronger now. She murmured his name, encouraging him to go just a bit faster.

Alexander's control slipped a fraction; he drove a little more firmly, spurred by her responses. But his lips never ceased roaming her face, her neck, murmuring "I love you" against her skin. Vivienne felt herself spiraling toward a second climax, this one brighter, sharper.

"I'm with you," he groaned, sensing her approaching peak. He reached down to rub her swollen bud even as he continued to plunge deeply. The dual stimulation sent Vivienne over the edge. She cried out his name, clutching him tightly as ecstasy swept through her in pulsing waves. Her walls clenched around him, milking his shaft.

With a hoarse moan, Alexander followed, burying himself to the hilt and spilling his warmth inside her. He shuddered, peppering her face with breathless kisses as pleasure claimed him.

They remained joined, foreheads touching, breath mingling in the aftermath. Vivienne felt the rapid thud of his heart against her chest gradually slow to match hers. In that serene silence, she realized the terror of the last night had finally loosened its grip. Lucien's specter had retreated, at least for now, chased away by the light of Alexander's love.

Carefully, Alexander rolled to the side, bringing her with him so they lay facing one another. He was still half-hard inside her, but neither moved to separate just yet. He stroked her back in lazy patterns. "Are you alright?" he asked softly.

Vivienne gave a contented hum, brushing a kiss over his lips. "I am now." She meant it. The ache in her body was dulled by the soothing pleasure he'd given, and the ache in her heart was eased by his devotion.

She nestled against his chest, and he held her close. For a short while they drifted in and out of light dozes, tangled in each other. Vivienne knew they would have to face reality soon—Lucien's threat still loomed, and Celeste and others remained in play. But right now, in Alexander's arms, she allowed herself peace.

Before sleep claimed her more fully, one thought whispered through her mind: she was no longer alone in her battles. Come what may, she had an ally—perhaps even a true partner—in Alexander. And for the first time in a long time, Vivienne felt a fragile hope that love, not just power, might guide her fate.