She spun toward him. “Do you mock me?”
“No,” he said, and to her surprise his normally cocky expression softened. With the edge off, he looked a different person, almost. Warmer, younger. “No. You were upset. I wanted…I wanted to know that you were well.”
She blinked, for the hesitation in his voice told her he wasn’t accustomed to such kindnesses. Which made her wonder why he was extending them now. Part of his never-ending game? Another chapter in his seduction? Pretend to care and make a fool of a lady?
She lifted her chin. “Stop troubling yourself.”
He didn’t leave, of course. He moved closer. Why did he have to keep doing that? Cutting off half the room, looming up in her line of vision like he was the only thing that mattered?
“Adelaide and Graham’s reunion…it bothered you,” he said softly.
She fought not to let the truth cascade over her face. She would not be vulnerable with this man. Not now. Now ever. “Of course not,” she snapped. “Why would it?”
He arched a brow. “You are aterribleliar, Katherine.”
“And you are a good one,” she said, but some of the heat was gone from her voice. She was simply too exhausted by all of this to stoke it. “What is your point?”
He stopped moving then. It had been all she’d hoped for, and yet now that he stood, more than an arm’s length away, she wished he’d edge closer. And she hated herself for that.
“You look and see their connection.”
“Everyone sees their connection,” she argued. “Everyone with eyes. They do not hide it.”
“But it makes you long for something, Katherine,” he said, his voice so soft it barely carried. “Something in your blood.”
She tried to draw breath but found very little. The room felt off kilter now, hot. He was pressing into her boundaries without even touching her, and she found herself allowing it. Even though she knew how foolish that was.
“Their love,” she blurted out, saying the one thing she doubted Roseford wanted anything to do with. “Who wouldn’t be envious of that?”
He arched a brow and a shadow of a smile crossed his face. “That isn’t what you feel in your stomach. That isn’t what makes your hands shake at your sides as they are doing now.”
Katherine glanced down and scowled at the betraying shudder of her fingers. She shoved them behind her back and glared at him.
“How long has it been since anyone touched you?”
She caught her breath at the direct, wildly inappropriate question. The one that made her legs shake beneath her gown, her thighs clench together with awareness of the wetness that was already pooling there.
“Y-you h-have no right,” she gasped out, hardly able to say the words.
He stared at her a beat, then stepped closer once more, and now he could touch her even though he didn’t. Now she could touch him even though she shouldn’t. She looked up into his eyes, dark as pitch they were dilated so wide with desire. He was ridiculously handsome and she wanted him. She hated him and wanted him all at once.
“Unless you grant me the right,” he said. “How long?”
She was backed into the alcove of the window now, her backside so close to the glass that she could feel the cold of it through her skirt. There was nowhere to run. Oh, perhaps she could push around him. He’d let her flee his presence.
But there was nowhere to run from the question. It would hang between them until she answered. And she did, voice shaking. “Sincehisdeath.”
He nodded. “And how long since you were satisfied by a man?”
Her lips parted and any breath she had left in her lungs dissipated. He edged in closer, his body brushing hers.
“Before his death?” he asked, his fingers reaching up to trace her jawline. “Months? Years?”
She heard a gasp escape her mouth. Felt herself nod. Betray herself, give in to him. And he smiled, softly, gently.
“I can change that, Katherine,” he murmured.
He lowered his lips and she tensed. They’d been here before. Twice. But he’d never kissed her. And then he was. His mouth pressed to hers as he caught her waist and gently pulled her against him.
