She drew in a shaking breath. ‘Different from anyone I’ve ever met and so different from what I expected.’
She crossed to where he sat—mute, and like stone—and kneeled before him. She had no choice—it was the only way to meet his eyes.
‘I couldn’t work out why I’ve been experiencing this growing sense of unease, but then when you said last night that you like being alone, that it’s how you’re meant to be, it made me see everything clearly. I don’t want to be alone.’ She shook her head. ‘I mean, I don’t want to be with anyone else either. I want to be with you.’
It was like grating his feet on boiling bitumen. He shook his head in a silent, visceral rejection of her words. He could imagine a future just as she painted it, with no end point on this marriage, with Alice by his side day in, day out, for no purpose other than that they enjoyed being together, and, damn, so much of him wanted to agree, to admit this had changed completely from what he’d expected, too.
But the thing was, there was always an end point. To every relationship in life, there was a cessation, and he’d rather know when and why than be blindsided. He needed those boundaries in place.
His eyes met hers and pain opened up inside him, because he felt her upset, he felt it pulling at him.
‘Alice.’ He had to think of what to say. She stared at him, almost as though she were holding her breath. ‘What do you want from me?’
She opened her mouth, apparently not sure of that. ‘I want to know how you feel.’
‘How I feel?’ His response was unintentionally scathing.
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‘Yes.’ Her eyes sparked with courage. ‘Because I don’t think I’m the only one who’s been falling in love here.’
He ground his teeth together, rejecting her implication whole-heartedly. Love was a minefield he had no intention of getting involved with.
The very idea filled him with the sense he was falling off the edge of a very tall building.
‘Not once—’ he spoke slowly, clearly, choosing his words with great care ‘—have I given you any reason to think love was on offer.’
He heard her shocked intake of breath and, a second later, tears sparkled on her lashes, tears that might as well have been made of acid, being dripped onto his flesh. ‘You don’t think?’
‘I know. I have been very careful on that score.’
‘Liar,’ she whispered, her own anger obvious now.
‘From the beginning, we have both been absolutely clear about the parameters of this.’
‘We said one thing,’ she muttered, ‘and did another.’
His heart careened into his ribcage as he acknowledged that there was potentially some truth in that.
He’d been careless and stupid. His own rule of thumb—of never getting involved with anyone—had served him well all his life. And the one time he’d let his guard down, he ended up in this mess.
And it was a total mess. Because he didn’t want Alice to be upset. He didn’t want her to be hurt. And he sure as hell didn’t want her to go, and he had a sneaking suspicion that she would, if he didn’t play his cards very, very carefully.
‘I like being with you.’ His voice was gentle. ‘Isn’t that enough?’
Her eyes lifted to his and she was quiet, which he took as a very encouraging sign. Carefully, he continued. ‘You think you’re in love with me.’ He ignored the way her eyes narrowed and her lips tightened. ‘But I think maybe it’s just sexual infatuation. This has been pretty amazing.’ He smiled, to show how much he meant that. ‘I think that we should just keep going as we are. Enjoy what we have. But not get too invested in what comes next.’
The second she stood, he knew he’d said the wrong thing. She hadn’t been listening with an open mind, she’d been listening with obvious disbelief.
‘What comes next is already here.’ She bit down on her lip and he had the most awful feeling that she was trying not to cry. ‘I don’t “think” I’m in love with you. I know I am. And knowing that, there’s no way I can keep pretending to be your wife, making love with you—’ her voice cracked ‘—if it doesn’t mean anything to you.’
He stood up, rejecting those words, pulling her into his arms. ‘I didn’t say it means nothing,’ he growled, the words almost primal, coming from somewhere deep inside him. ‘I just don’t want you to think sex equates to love.’
‘It’s not just sex,’ she said, not facing him, pressing her cheek to his chest. ‘It’s everything I feel when we’re together. At dinner. Waking up beside you. I love you. I love your mind, your ideas, your passion, your determination. I’m head over heels in love with every single part of you and it will suffocate me if I have to stay here with you pretending I don’t feel that way, or knowing that you don’t feel that for me—I can’t do it. I just can’t.’
He groaned, stepping back from her just enough to see her face. He pressed a finger beneath her chin, tilting her face up to his. ‘So what do you want?’
She opened her mouth, her eyes laced with disbelief, and every cell in his body was compelling him to say something, to beg her to stay anyway, to promise her just enough to keep her with him. Hell, to lie to her, if that was what it took.