To give her a moment—a bloody second—to make sense of what was happening to his body and to hers.
All she’d known was that they’d been fighting and then, suddenly, she could no longer tell where he ended and she began.
Of coursehe’d misunderstood. Healwaysmisunderstood.
Her legs became gelatin. The room swayed.
Histerms never changed—accept whatever he meted out or be abandoned.
Her cheeks flamed. Her body burned. For a moment, everything went blank. Then anger exploded in a torrent, flooding her muscles with strength.
“Deviltake you!” The forbidden expression focused her mind. “I don’t need you. I don’twantyou. And I’ll see you inhellbefore I allowyoutoescortme anywhere.”
A mite strong, perhaps—she yanked open the door—but the shock on his face was satisfying…sosatisfying. She slammed the door and stalked toward the stairs, fuming.
Rayne may have been a leader of the young Tory set, an aristocrat of rare means, but she doubted he’d been the rake his reputation claimed.
What kind of experienced lover could be so out of tune with the woman in his arms?
Hadn’t he realized that little session had only been the second time they’d kissed?
The second time she’d kissed anyone at all?
She couldn’t understand how—and why—he’d moved so quickly. After all, it wasn’t as if they’d stolen a moment during a soiree and were about to be discovered.
They’d been kissing in a bedchamber, for goodness’ sake. With a bed right there.
He could have slowed things down.
He could have given her space to take one breath.
She couldn’t pinpoint the moment when everything changed, but at some point, fear had entered her want, and vulnerability, her need. She was filled with too much sensation. And then he’d lifted her straight off the ground. She’d been weightless. Breathless.
And terrified out of her mind.
She’d wanted his kiss, but the way they’d come together had been wrong—sowrong. All fury and frustration with no explanations.
Even worse, he’d just told her he was considering selling the Grange, walking away from his life…fromher.
He may no longer sparkle like a diamond, but his heart was still made of stone.
How else could he so effortlessly move between indifference to apology, accusation to care, rules to passionate kisses?
Because he was a pig-headed, arrogant, breathtaking, awe-inspiring—
She tripped over the last stair, catching herself on the final baluster.
The butler’s mirror at the base of the stair reflected her bowed, distorted expression. Exactly as she felt within. And that bruise on her jaw? Almost purplish-black. Not to mention the deep, roughened red of her ravaged lips. She buttoned her opened waistcoat—at least now her breasts were concealed.
That’s it. Breathe.She considered her options.
She’d enough coin to hire passage back to Southford, but did she really wish to leave?
No.
Despite the anger frothing in her heart, she didn’twantto leave. She wanted to stay. Fight. Figure out the truth.
Something must exist between the extremes. But was that something worth gambling her all?
