Chapter 31

The supper was awkward. She had more attention than she wanted. Then again, she was trussed up like a Christmas tree. She didn't know any of these people. Ministry people, and the envoy from Denmark, whose cheeks were getting rosy with all the wine he was drinking.

Luckily, her opinion wasn't wanted, only her presence. She was the decoration. Her position in the household wasn't hard for anyone to deduce. The women threw scathing looks at her for fear that she would snare their husbands. Clearly, they didn't understand that there was no way Draco would let her go. Not right now anyway.

An absurd thought entered her mind, thinking that none of these people suspected that Draco didn't actually sleep with her. He couldn't bring himself to. It was funny, in a macabre way. The men here might throw him incomprehensible looks if she announced it. Yes, this was some sick game, but it wasn't what it appeared.

Draco sat opposite her. He was bored, but he tolerated it. His moods were so difficult to get a handle on. Sometimes he was like this, bored, or witty and vicious, other times he was prone for the looney bin.

She met his eyes across the table. It was clear that she had his attention more than anyone. He didn't like them, but then he didn't seem to like anyone. Was everything he was doing in presenting her as his whore for their benefit, or was it for hers? That was what she had trouble working out. How much of his attention was focused on whatever went on between them?

What did he want from her? There was a tinge of desperate madness in that plea. If she could just understand what he wanted, things would be so much easier. Maybe this was what he wanted, the endless uncertainty and questioning. Have her off balance. Then again, did what he wanted matter. Maybe it was more important to focus on what he didn't want—which contradictorily was her, too.

The food was wonderful and the mood around the table mellow. Terrible jokes told by people who thought they were both funny and intelligent. It was pure artifice, every bit of it.

"I think we must retreat to the salon," Lucius said as they finished dessert, which was a merengue and strawberry concoction. Luckily it was small, because it was jarringly sweet.

"Excellent idea," the Dane said. "Such a superb meal should be finished with a cigar. I will of course retreat outside if that would be more convenient," he said to Narcissa.

"No need," she said. "The salon is large enough."

People rose and Draco held out his hand to her as she walked around the table. Oh, so they were holding hands now—like lovers? It was warm and solid, and on some irrational level, offering a notion of safety. Maybe because if it held her hand, it wasn't around her throat.

Another irrational notion overtook her, that long-lost desire to be loved by a man, someone who wanted to be with her. Because before the war, her plan had been to fall in love with someone who was in love with her, someone capable, and strong, intelligent and loving. Someone she could build a life with—tell her stories to. Someone to share her life and bed with, have children with. And then the war had happened, and she hadn't thought like that since.

As they approached the main seating area, he didn't let go of his hand, instead drew her to him as he sat down. More or less drawing her into his lap. So this charade was continuing.

"I think this is safer," he said quietly.

"Safer how?"

"Safer than these wankers starting to hit on you."

"Would it matter if they did? I'm hardly going to be tempted."

Her instinct told her she'd be heavy balanced on his thigh like this, but her mind was like, 'Fuck it, hope it's agony.'

"The distance charm ensures you're not. Without it, maybe you would be."

"Without it, I'd sneak out the back when you weren't looking."

"So what is your plan? You undoubtedly have one. You might as well tell me. I do anticipate them."

"So tell me. What do you think my plan is?"

"The most obvious option is to get me to undo the charm," he stated. "Which as a recourse has limited avenues. What is it you could do or say that would induce me to set you free?"

"Secretly, you wish for my absence. It's not like you want me here. At the moment, you need me here."

He smiled. "And why's that? Do enlighten me."

"You ask me to enlighten you, because you don't know. But you fear your need, because it gives me power."

"Yes, it sure seems that way."

Leaning in closer, she placed her lips near his, but not so they touched. He had to feel the tension of it. "Maybe the glue here is plain, old desire."

"If it was that simple, I probably would have succumbed by now."

"So why haven't you? Is it your disgust for me and everything I stand for, or is it because you have something to lose? Or fear you do. Because if you do succumb, I'll have more power over you, not less."

"Perhaps you overestimate your appeal."

"And therein lies my plan."

He turned to her now and they were so close. She could feel his hot breath on her lips. "You have a real need to dismiss me, to look down on me, and to see me as pitiful and pathetic. God knows, you've been trying so hard the entire time I've known you. So I will help you. Kiss me, Draco. Please, I ache for you."

His eyes skipped between hers. "Careful."

"Or what? You'll fuck me? Maybe I want you to. Maybe I've always wanted you to. Maybe I laid awake at night in my dorm room, touching myself as I thought of you."

There was real warning in his eyes now. "You make me sick."

"But I love you, Draco. I always have."

"It isn't going to work," he said dismissively. "Because I know you."

"Give it time. It will work," she said with a sniff and looked away. It was actually quite comfortable sitting there, leaning against him.

"At this rate, we're going to end up fucking out of sheer, pig-headed stubbornness. Both with the intention of proving the other person wrong," he said.

"Or we can skip it all and go to the inevitable conclusion of you taking this charm off."

"Now where would be the fun in that?"

Soft lips found her neck, and her instinctive reaction was to bring up her shoulder to put space between them. That was just a little too intimate. Trust him to find that spot that was just too much, right off the bat. That was his vicious nature—going in for the kill, even unwittingly. He absolutely couldn't have known. Even his formidable intelligence gathering couldn't have told him how sensitive her neck was. Anything else she could handle, but that was just pure intimacy.

Her reaction had informed him. Now she had to decide if she would go that far. How far would she take the intimacy in order to get rid of him? Because he had the capabilities of getting to her in ways no one else had. As much as she hated to admit her, he did know her. Others made assumptions about her, usually based on their prejudices related to her kind, but Draco had watched her for years.

The ball was in his court now. He would either advance or retreat. His pride wouldn't let him retreat, so he had to find a third way out of this that didn't come across as too pathetic. Because she'd basically called him a pussy for not sleeping with her.

On some levels, it was incredibly stupid, but at this point, something had to give. He would never undo the charm on her because he was afraid of her, so now he had to find some means of distancing himself. After proving to her he wasn't afraid of her.

So they would sleep together, she would be all clingy, and he would find his excuse for why she was pathetic and had to go. Even as they had basically agreed that was the plan. They just had to act it out now.

"But you must dance," the Dane said, who was quite drunk by now. "A beautiful young couple. Youth is for dancing and making love."

"Aptly said," Draco stated wryly and urged her off him. "They request a show."

With his wand, he charmed a music box along the wall, which started playing. Then pulled her to him as they'd moved away from the seating area, and they started dancing. Slowly and casually, without much form or function, just moving in unity.

"They're jealous," Draco said.

"Maybe in forty years, you will be too, urging young people to dance while you recall that one time you danced with that mudblood girl you once knew. You know, in the future, when I'm a distant memory. Me being the one who faded away utterly for pining for you after you dumped her. I mean, stupid mudblood, what was she thinking, that someone like you could be with someone as low as her? And there she was hoping you'd actually loved her." Hermione threw her head back and laughed.

"So this is all paint by numbers now?" he said. "You have it all planned out."

"Can you see any other way this is going to go? What other option is there? Are we just going to be hanging out like this aiming little pot-shots at each other for the next twenty years?"

His silence meant everything.