“I am not disputing that. These people needed help, and you saved a girl today—for that, I’m extremely proud of you.” She took a moment to gather her thoughts and string them together in a cohesive sentence. “But you left me behind today.”
Sebastian frowned. “What was I supposed to have done? Brought you with me?”
“Yes,” she snapped. “That ispreciselywhat you ought to have done. Do you know what it was like to wait here, listening to the sounds of the storm, watching lightning flash and hearing trees topple, while never knowing if you were alive or dead?”
Sebastian stared at her as though he had never seen her before. He scraped one hand through his hair, letting it flop darkly back on his forehead. “Aurelia…” he started.
“Don’t placate me! I’m not some little woman you can leave at home. When I married you, it was to be your wife, your equal—notyour servant. You told them not to let me out.”
Something flashed in his eyes. “Do you recall what happened to the last wife who ventured outside in a storm?”
He approached her then, and something in his face made her step back. “I searched for her all night, Aurelia.All night!And for what? The villagers found her washed up on the rocks likegod damneddriftwood!” His voice cracked at the word. “To this day, I don’t know what happened—whether she got confused when she was walking, heading to the lighthouse as she thought it was safe, or if she was so angry with me and miserable in the life we built together that she walked to those cliffs and chose to jump!”
Shock stole Aurelia’s breath. The lighthouse. That was why he went there, again and again. Not because Kate had loved it, but because that was where she had died.
“Sebastian, it wasn’t your fault…”
“How can you say that when I chased her out! She was mywife, and I was unable to save her.” His gaze drifted to the window. “I—I mustn’t have looked hard enough. I was tired and angry, and I’d left it too long. She was out there alone in the dark and the rain, and I was here, nursing my wounded pride." He dragged a hand over his face. “She was my wife. My responsibility. And I failed her. I didn’t protect her from the storm, from herself, from anything. I failed her, and she died for it.”
“She shouldn’t have run off,” Aurelia said, suddenly angry at thisKate, who either through stupidity or selfishness had caused Sebastian untold amounts of pain. “But we are not the same—”
“I refuse to risk it,” Sebastian cut in, his voice cold.
“I would have been with you.”
“That hadn’t kepthersafe.”
“I would have stayed with you,” she repeated. “Which is where I belong, as your wife. I could havehelped. These people need help—more than merely feeding them tea and handing them blankets. I am not some timid woman.” She spread her hands, stepping closer. “I have seen my fair share of hardship. My hands have known work. I’m not afraid of getting them dirty.” Finally, she reached him and cradled a hand over his cheek. “I amnotCatherine. And I choose my own path. I chooseyou. Do not leave me behind again.”
Devastation crossed his face like a lightning strike. “I can’t risk losing you,” he murmured quietly.
“Youwon’t. But if you push me aside again, you will. I swear it, you indomitable thundercloud. I will not sit back and wait for you again, not like that. It was terrible.” Her lips trembled—she pressed them together so she wouldn’t fall apart. “I was so afraid—”
He cursed and crushed his mouth to hers. The kiss was savage, half-prayer and half-claim, like he’d clawed his way back from the dead just to have her one more time. She met him with the same ferocity, fingers twisting in his shirt, dragging him closer.
She had spent hours convinced she’d lost him. That he’d drowned in some flooded ditch while she paced uselessly behind locked doors. The relief of having him here now, solid and breathing and alive, was so fierce it bordered on pain. She needed his hands on her. Everywhere.
Now.
“Hurry,” she gasped against his mouth, barely recognizing the sound.
His hands went to her back. Fabric screamed as he tore the gown open, the sound obscene in the quiet room.
“Sebastian—?”
“No.” His breath was hot against her throat, his voice husky. “I’ll buy you a dozen more. A hundred. I’ll clothe you every night inthe most luxurious silk just for the pleasure of ripping it off your body.”
She fumbled with his cravat, untying it and tossing it aside. They stripped one another with the same hunger in their kisses. When his palms finally met her bare skin, she nearly sobbed with relief.
“Here.” She dragged his large hand to her pale breast. He squeezed, then caught a rosy nipple and rolled it agonizingly between his fingers. The sensation shot straight between her legs, molten and demanding.
“Bed,” he said roughly.
Oh, but she hadotherplans.
She pushed him down onto the mattress before he could argue, then stepped between his spread thighs.
“What are you—”
