‘I hope you let me pay for that.’
‘No.’ A little spark glittered in her eyes, a hint of challenge that went straight to his groin. ‘I used my own money.’
Part of him wanted to argue with her about it, challenge her the way she challenged him, and then finish their argument in the way they both loved so much: in bed.
But that could wait.
He held her gaze. ‘I owe you an apology, Rose.’
Her eyes widened. ‘Oh?’
For a second, he wondered if she’d even picked up on his anger earlier. She hadn’t reached for him when he’d told her the name of her brother, after all. She hadn’t even looked at him, keeping her attention squarely on her hands.
But even if she hadn’t realised, he still wanted her to know he was sorry for it.
‘You were upset,’ he said. ‘And I didn’t help.’
Her long, thick golden lashes lowered, veiling her gaze. ‘It’s fine.’
‘It isn’t fine. I should have been there for you, and I wasn’t, because I was angry. It was petty and unfair of me.’ The words were surprisingly easy to say.
‘It wasn’t unfair.’ She smoothed her dress. ‘I shouldn’t have pushed you about...’ She stopped, her hands still moving nervously on the fabric.
She was upset, he could hear it in her voice, and before he knew what he was doing, he’d closed the distance between them, going to where she stood in the doorway and reaching for her. His hands found her hips, the fabric of her dress warm against his skin, and he tugged her close. She didn’t resist, her nervous fingers resting at last on his chest, and she looked up at him, something that looked like guilt in her eyes.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said before he could speak. ‘I shouldn’t have made you talk about your wife. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just wanted to know you better and I shouldn’t have pushed.’
‘Again, you didn’t know.’ He tightened his hands on her hips, the warmth of her seeping into him, familiar and yet new, making him want to do so many different things to her. Things he’d been dreaming about since those two weeks in the Cotswolds. ‘And you were right to push. It’s not a secret and it’s not fair of me to keep it like one. Besides, you didn’t force me. I chose to tell you in the end.’
Her big golden eyes were full of sympathy and a compassion that made his heart ache for reasons he couldn’t have articulated. Especially when neither sympathy nor compassion was what he wanted.
Not when you don’t deserve it.
Ah, but he knew that. He’d always known that.
‘You don’t have to tell me anything more,’ she said with quiet finality. ‘I’ll never mention it again.’
It was what he wanted. His wife existing only in his memory, in his conscience, in the company he’d built to honour her, the only evidence of his failure the scars on his face. After all, he wasn’t going to make those same mistakes again.
He’d allowed his pride and his anger to talk him into thinking he was strong enough to protect the woman he loved, and he hadn’t thought through the consequences.
His emotions had blinded him; he couldn’t trust them to guide him properly, only the memory of his wife could do that.
Sex, though, that was only physical, and he could allow himself that.
He bent his head and kissed her upturned mouth, let the sweet taste of her fill his senses as he explored her. She gave the most delicious shiver and melted against him, her pliant body pressed the length of his. He adjusted her hips, settling the heat between her thighs against the growing hardness of his groin, and he heard her give a little moan.
He dropped one hand from her hip, finding the hem of her dress and sliding his palm beneath it to the silky skin of her thigh. She felt so warm and her mouth beneath his was so hot.
But what about her? What about what she deserves?
The strange chill that had crept through him before did so again, deepening this time, so that even through the heat of their kiss and the warmth of her skin, he felt it.
She deserved all the things she’d never had, all the things that had been denied her as a prisoner. And if she chose to stay, he would give them to her. Freedom to go anywhere, do anything. Money to buy whatever she wanted or donate to charity if she preferred. Passion to keep her hunger satisfied and support to help her branch out into whichever career she wanted to satisfy her intellect.
That’s not all she deserves.
His heartbeat was far too loud and the chill creeping through him was getting wider and deeper. He kissed her harder, pushing her up against the wall and pressing himself against her, wanting her heat to chase it away.