Sheridan thought about the pleading that was in his voice when he called Emma’s name, an unfulfilled ache. Sheridan’s throat tightened. “Do you love her?”
Something powerful flashed in his eyes to be buried just as swiftly. “Yes.”
His admission was shocking. The idea of Elijah loving another woman had never occurred to her. “Who is she?”
His voice was care
fully composed when he answered. “My wife.”
She flinched, heart lurching in shock. “Your wife?”
The silence stretched thin and painful and Sheridan could only stare at him. She looked to his hand and noted the absence of a ring. She did not let that fool her. She had not worn one when he took her in his arms that first time, and without a doubt she had been married. What happened to his wife? A wife? And he had nightmares about her. She did not delude herself to think they were sweet dreams.
Sheridan walked over to the large four-poster bed in the center of the room. She wrapped her hands around the bed post and gazed at where he stood looking out the windows. The moonlight highlighted the harsh planes of his face and his unreadable mien. “What happened to her?”
Stunning sea green eyes slashed to her and roamed over her body. She could feel his eyes, like a tangible touch and heated awareness rippled over her skin. She knew without a doubt that talking was not on his mind. He seemed too dangerously edgy. The torment that shadowed his gaze troubled her. With pounding heart she met his regard steadily. “Do you want me to stay? We could talk. We could head down to the kitchen and have some coffee, or even play a few more hands of poker,” she offered praying he would say yes.
His nostrils flared and he took a half step towards her before jerking his frame to a stop. “No. Get out.”
Sheridan almost went, but then she saw the burning lust. Something swirled that she could not identify, and he seemed even edgier. He prowled toward the door in that sensually wild way of his. He had that graceful, dangerous air about him, and his powerful back and shoulder muscles twisted like snakes beneath his skin as he moved. He wrenched the door open and gave her a carefully affected blank look. She dipped her eyes to his trousers and there was no mistaking the hard ridge of his erection.
She straightened and moved towards him slowly. Her mind screamed to leave, that he seemed too restless, but the woman in her wanted to stay and soothe the torment in his eyes. He had dreams about a wife she had not known he had. More than dreams. The sounds he’d emitted from his throat had lifted the fine hairs on her arms. It was grief, terror, in a raw and painful way.
She gently closed the door when she reached him and he let her. “Let me stay with you, Elijah. We don’t have to talk.”
His eyes narrowed and she knew her meaning had not escaped him. His gaze ran over her in a leisurely movement and his length hardened further. A weakness invaded her limbs and her core dampened without him touching her.
“I am not interested in permanency, Sheridan. You would whore yourself in such a manner?”
She struggled to keep her composure. Her fingers clenched in the fabric of her night rail. “I know you are trying to push me away. It won’t work. I am only offering to comfort you.”
His brow arched sharply. He gripped her hips and shifted her so that her back pressed against the door. He dipped his head so that she met his gaze squarely. “You are a beautiful woman, Sheridan. None that I have known compare to you.”
She trembled beneath his look. His thumb brushed against the corner of her lips before skimming down her neck to cup her breast.
“I have warned you, but you refuse to heed my warning. I am not interested in anything with you except fucking. Only a fool would be blind to the fact that you want more. That more will never be with me, Sheridan.”
“You lie,” she refuted calmly. It took an inordinate amount of nerve to say such a thing to his face. “We had an amazing time together filled with laughter and passion. You taught me how to ride astride, how to swim, to handle a rifle. You read to me. I played for you. I taught you to dance. We dreamt of a future together, impossible dreams that slowly seemed attainable. You loved me for twenty nights, and you told me you wanted me always and forever.”
Anger flashed in his eyes but she forced herself to continue, “I burn for you, Elijah. Always. And I know you burn for me in the same manner. I love you,” she confessed. “I am not afraid to say how much I love you.”
“Is that so? Love?” he drawled mockingly.
“Yes.”
His hands trailed down to her stomach and lower, cupping her core through her nightgown. “Sheridan the only thing I burn for is to be buried in this sweet responsive pussy of yours. You give it to me how I like it, wet, tight and wantonly, that is all.” His words were both a threat and a promise.
She swallowed as her body responded to his crude words which had meant to be insulting. Her nipples beaded and her drawers dampened. “Were your words meant to turn me away?” she asked huskily.
He pulled up her nightgown with slow painstaking movements. “An affair is all I have to offer, Sheridan. And it will be only until you leave.”
He parted her drawers and slipped a finger into her dampness. “Are you still offering?”
She swallowed. He expected her to refuse him. She almost changed her mind and left. If he had nothing to offer her, what would he do if she got pregnant, would he refuse to marry her still? The thought was unbearable. But the memories of how they’d laughed and loved kept her grounded. The only thing she had to use to fight his resolve was her body. Shame scalded her but she buried it, and instead concentrated on all she would lose if she could not win his affection. “Yes.”
He stiffened, clearly not anticipating her acceptance of an affair.
He hoisted her and she gripped his shoulders. The snap of his button mingled with her sudden heavy breathing. She made to lean in to kiss him and he jerked his head back.