Jane sat in the carriage, staring at the open door as she listened to her husband speak softly to his servants. There was a tension to his voice she’d never heard before. An intensity that matched what she’d seen on his face when they were dancing. Like he was fighting a battle he’d just realized he didn’t need to win.
And she had no idea what that meant for her, for him, forthem. Her hands shook in her lap as he finally climbed up into the vehicle and the door shut behind him.
He settled into his seat across from her and the carriage began to move. She searched the darkness, trying to see his expression, trying to read him so that she understood what was happening.
But it was impossible. The vehicle was dark. She only caught glimpses of his face in columns of light that sometimes passed through the glass.
She settled back and took a long breath. “Are you…angry with me?”
“No,” he said, his voice surprisingly gentle through the dark. “Not at all. I just found I couldn’t wait even one more moment to do this.”
He moved to her side of the carriage in one smooth motion and cupped her cheeks. His lips lowered and she gasped as he kissed her. Not an ordinary kiss, but something heated and passionate and filled with dark desire and steaming, swirling pleasure.
She wrapped her arms around him, letting out a low moan as he pushed her against the carriage wall, his weight pressing into her, proving to her that he wanted her from the hard length of his cock against her belly.
He placed a hand against her thigh and began to tangle her skirt into his fist, sliding it up her leg to reveal her stockings, her skin.
“I need you,” he admitted, his tone taut and filled with tension.
She stared at his face, clearer now that he was so close. She saw desperation there, emotional as well as physical. It mimicked her own.
“Then take what you need,” she murmured as she leaned up to capture his lips once more.
He let out a low sound, something between a moan and a sob, and then he wrenched at his trouser placard, freeing himself. He shifted her on the seat, pulling her backside half off as he knelt between her legs and positioned himself at her entrance.
She gasped when he entered her, sliding into the slick evidence of her need as he whispered her name against her neck.
She lifted against him, rocking her clitoris against his pelvis and sending a shot of awareness through herself. He grunted and then began to move. They were short, hard thrusts, ones that ground against her as she lifted into them. Ones that claimed and captured and ripped pleasure through her body with unexpected ferocity and speed.
She came without warning, a release tore through her as she cried out, the sound muffled against his jacket, his shoulder. He wasn’t far behind, spending deep within her with a broken grunt.
“You test me,” he growled against her throat as he shuddered one last time.
“I like testing you,” she whispered back, unable to keep a smile off her face.
He tensed at that statement and drew back as the carriage came to a stop. He moved to his side of the carriage, breaking the connection of their bodies and quickly pulled his clothing back together. She did the same, frowning at his silence and the accusatory fashion of it.
It was like she was offered a chance to repair the breach between them and yet something always happened to ruin it. Something she said or did or didn’t say or didn’t do. A puzzle to solve, only she wasn’t being given all of the pieces.
The carriage door opened and the footman appeared. Colin climbed from the vehicle first, then took her hand to help her down. She met his gaze as she exited, but he looked away as soon as he could and began the short walk into the foyer.
“Colin,” she said as they handed over their coats and gloves and hats to waiting servants.
He frowned. “I find I’m tired,” he said. “It has been a long and eventful few days.”
The servants departed and she folded her arms as she stared at him. “So you will not speak to me?”
He stiffened at her direct method of approach. “I’m uncertain what there is to say, Jane.”
She caught her breath. “Uncertain what there is to say? How can you mean that when there is half a year between us? When there is such anger in you at times and such gentleness at others? How can you look me in the face and pretend there isn’t something to say?”
He almost looked chagrined at her accusation. He bent his head briefly, and there was a moment where she held her breath, waiting for the dam to break, for the truth to be revealed. But then his expression hardened.
“I recognize you want more,” he said softly. “But this is all I have for you, Jane. It is likely all I will ever have. And there is nothing else to say.”
He turned and walked away, leaving her standing in the foyer, staring after him, utterly lost and utterly broken.
Chapter Six
