She let out a cry of pleasure and arched against him.
Abruptly, he ceased his worship of her body and pulled himself back, horrified at how far he had been willing to go. How damned selfish he was. Because if he ruined her in truth…there would be no going back. For either of them.
He had no idea how he’d got a hold of himself, how reason had come.
Perhaps it was the thought of Alexander with the pistol. But he knew that wasn’t it.
He’d never been cruel. And he’d damned well never taken advantage of an unmarried lady. And that’s what he was doing. He was the one with experience. He was the one with power.
Damnation. He didn’t want to have to find her a husband because he’d ruined her; he wanted to find her someone because that’s what she desired, and he wanted to find someone worthy of her.
Yet, in this moment, the very idea of finding her a husband filled him with a fury so intense he stepped back. The rage of it shocked him as a voice deep within him whispered,mine.
“Forgive me,” he said, removing his hands from her so quickly it was as if they had been scalded.
She staggered a step, free of him so abruptly, and her face paled. Quickly, she yanked her chemise back up, pulling the string, a drawbridge being lifted. Her languid movements turned sharp. “You keep asking me to forgive you, and yet there’s nothing to forgive. I wanted you to kiss me. We kissed each other.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “We did. Thoroughly.”
“Not thoroughly,” she replied, arching her brow. “That was a revelation, but now I feel…”
“You were disappointed that I stopped?” he asked.
She contemplated him for a moment. “No, I’m not disappointed, because I can see that you are. Disappointed in yourself that you allowed yourself to do this.”
He looked away. “Forgive me.”
“Stop saying that,” she bit out. “Please. It makes me feel as if you’ve done something shameful, and I don’t think we have. I think we’ve enjoyed each other. We’ve met each other as equals.”
He stopped at that, and a wave of deep regret hit him. “We’re not equals, Jack,” he rasped.
She tensed at his hard words.
“I’m a man and a duke, and you’re a young lady who’s meant to be married, and you don’t even have a fortune. How can we possibly be equals?”
She grimaced as she looked away. “I see.”
And then he winced, realizing it was possibly one of the cruelest things he could have ever said to her.
“We’re equals of mind,” he assured her, longing to take her hand again to make her see but knowing he could not. “We’re equals of spirit. The world will never see you with the same freedoms that I enjoy.”
She nodded. “You certainly don’t.” She drew in a sharp breath and shook her head as if ridding herself of a very bad taste. “Well, thank you for this enlightening interlude. I did come for a lesson, did I not? And you certainly have given it to me.”
“Jack, please don’t.” His voice was hollow, barely familiar to him. How had he lost his way? He was always in control. Always knowing what came next.
Now? He had no idea.
“Don’t what?” she challenged, grabbing her shirt from the floor. “Say what’s true? I think you captivating. I think you marvelous,” she said, “just as you seem to think me. But we’re not for each other. And we must accept it, even though it hurts.”
“It hurts?” he echoed, feeling as if the floor was slipping out from underneath him.
“Yes, it hurts,” she snapped as she yanked the linen back over her head. When she’d tugged it down, she paused, then began, “I’ve always felt…”
“Yes?” he prompted.
“No. I shan’t say it,” she said. “There is no room for that. I think this is at a close, don’t you? I don’t think that we should attempt this anymore. It is turning us into our worst selves if we feel disappointment and shame.”
Jack held his gaze for one last agonizing moment, turned away from him, and headed back to the windowsill.