“Yes,” she said, forcing the word past the knot in her throat. It wasn’t wise.”
It had not been wise. Not when she already knew how easily this man could unmake her and walk away without a second thought.
“Why?” His voice lowered, the question simple and unguarded; the confusion in his tone struck her harder than an accusation would have.
Of course, he did not understand. To him, this was a moment interrupted, nothing more. He did not remember the cold dismissal of their wedding night, nor the quiet humiliation that had followed her through an entire year of whispers and careful smiles.
“You seemed rather willing a moment ago,” he continued.
The accusation—no, the observation—made heat flood her face.
Of course, she had been willing. She had practically melted beneath his touch like a foolish girl who had never learned caution because she had forgotten. Forgotten that the man kneeling before her had once looked at her with the sameintensity… and walked away without a backward glance the very next morning.
Diana turned as if to retreat, desperate to put space between them before the memories overwhelmed her, but his hand closed gently around her wrist.
The contact was firm enough to stop her.
“Diana.” Her name sounded different on his tongue now. Lower. Rougher.
She stared stubbornly at the floor instead of at him. If she looked at his face, if she saw that same curiosity in his eyes, she feared the fragile resolve holding her together might shatter entirely.
Alexander said nothing for a moment, but she could feel his gaze on her, heavy and searching.
He was studying her, and something about the observation seemed to trouble him. She could feel the realization forming in the silence between them.
“We have not done this before,” he said slowly, the words edged with sudden disbelief.
The sudden awareness in his tone made her chest ache.
“No,” she said, the word brittle as glass.
His brow furrowed. “No? You mean… we never?—”
“No.” The humiliation she had buried for a year surged up, hot and bitter. “You left the morning after our wedding. You made it very clear you had no interest in such… obligations.”
He stared at her as if she’d struck him. “I did not consummate our marriage?”
She let out a long breath before answering, “You did not.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. He stepped toward her, the hunger replaced by something heavier.
“I thought,” he said quietly, “that your nervousness was because you knew something about my accident. That you were hiding some incriminating truth.”
For a moment, Diana simply stared at him. She was so stunned that her mind struggled to catch up with his words. Heat rushed into her face, spreading quickly down her neck as disbelief gave way to a sharp, rising anger.
After everything—after the humiliation, after the year he had left her to endure alone—this was what he imagined of her?
Her jaw dropped.
“You believed I was involved?” she huffed. “That I orchestrated harm against you?”
“I am trying to align the man you describe with the instincts I feel now,” he ran a hand through his sandy hair. “Something didn’t add up.”
She laughed, a sharp, incredulous sound. “Not everything revolves around your secrets, Your Grace. Sometimes a woman trembles simply because she has been starved of affection for a year and is suddenly confronted with a ghost who finally decided to look at her.”
The vulnerability of the confession made her skin crawl. She hated that he could see the wound he’d left.
Alexander exhaled slowly, his shoulders dropping. “I misjudged.”
