On the other hand, I had plenty of experience wrangling ornery men. Griffen deserved compassion, but my gut told me that wasn’t what he needed. We had a lot to do and we were running out of time. I had a list to finish.
I tossed out compassion and dredged up my own ornery. “Get over yourself. We both got tossed in the deep end, and it’s too late to walk away.”
“And you’re going to make it all better, is that right, Hope? With your lists and your determination?”
His voice was silky and dangerous. I took a step back. Ornery I could handle. Not this, not the intention in his eyes, suddenly hot with something that was not anger. Something I had no idea how to handle.
“I—”
“My consolation prize. Little Hope, all mine, with no one to protect her. So fierce when it comes to saving this town, this house, my fucking family. What about me, Hope? You going to save me, too?”
I couldn’t stop backing away as he advanced, his eyes narrowing, mine shot wide with panic. Griffen won’t hurt you, I told myself. Surely, he wouldn’t.
Would he?
“Why, Hope?” he pushed. “Because you owe me? Because none of this would have happened without you?”
“Griffen, I—I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. It was a secret and I—”
“But you couldn’t help yourself, could you? I know why. I knew why all those years ago.”
My back slammed into the cold wood of the paneled wall. There was no escape. Griffen smiled, those lush, soft lips curving into a predator’s snarl. His body almost touched mine, radiating heat, tall and broad, trapping me. Leaving me at his mercy.
A whimper left my lips. Not fear. I was flushed with nerves, and need, and the utter terror of the unknown. His head dropped until those lips I’d ogled brushed my cheek.
“You did it because you wanted me. You had a crush, imagined you loved me—”
“I didn’t! I—”
“No?” His lips were so soft, brushing my skin, the shell of my ear. “Are you calling me a liar? Telling me you didn’t lay in your bed dreaming about me?”
I couldn’t get air in my lungs, had no idea how to answer even if I could have formed a word. He lifted a hand, tilted my head to the side and skimmed his lips down my neck.
“You going to say you didn’t lie under the covers and think of me with your fingers between your legs? Didn’t dream of me when you made yourself come?”
I was shaking, my head and body going in different directions. I wanted to run, I wanted to touch. I squeezed my eyes shut in humiliated, aroused memory. Of course, I’d dreamed of Griffen the first time I’d slid my fingers between my legs, terrified someone would sense what I was doing and burst in my room to stop me. Of course, it was him. It had always been him. And he knew.
His lips tasted my jaw, pressed to my own, his tongue flicking out to touch mine before skating up the other side of my jaw to my sensitive earlobe.
“Is this a punishment or a victory, Hope? You act like you’re sorry, but from where I’m standing, you’re the only one who got everything she wanted. Maybe you did know about the will. Maybe you killed Prentice.”
He didn’t mean it. He couldn’t. How could he think this was what I wanted?
Forced into marriage with a man I’d once loved. Adored. Worshiped.
Forced to spend five years knowing he’d rather be with anyone else, that he’d only grow to hate me more with each day.
Once upon a time, I’d wanted Griffen to fall in love with me, to carry me off on his white horse like a prince in a story book. Never mind that Griffen hadn’t had a horse.
It was never going to happen then, and it was impossible now. Those were the daydreams of a lonely girl for a boy she’d never really known.
A single tear squeezed from between my tightly closed lids, the salt of it running down my cheek, staining my skin. Griffen pulled back, licking his lips from the taste, his brows pulling together.
“Hope, no. I—”
Chapter Fourteen
Hope
The front door swung open with a shrieking creak. Boot heels clattered across the hardwood floor, coming to a stop in the center of the entry. I shoved away from Griffen, swiping under my eyes before glancing up to see Savannah standing in the middle of the room, hands on her hips, surveying the formerly impressive entry hall of Heartstone Manor.
“You are not paying me enough for this,” she pronounced, her eyes narrowed on Griffen and me as I sidled away, needing distance from my unwilling husband.
I fumbled for my notebook and pen as Griffen said, “Then ask Harvey for a raise.”
Savannah gave a harrumph that reminded me of Miss Martha as she absorbed the gravelly rasp of Griffen’s voice. Had he been about to kiss me? My pounding heart wasn’t sure if that idea was terrifying or exactly what I wanted.