This had to stop. She wasn’t a child to charge recklessly ahead any longer. There was no more childish curiosity to blame for the pull between them. What they’d done, what she’d given was that of a knowing adult, and it had far more consequences than a rushed union.
They were to be married. A mutual contract. Cold, distant.
There’d been nothing distant about how he’d touched her. Or how she’d responded.
And Anna knew if she gave herself fully to him now, she’d never be able to keep her distance. She’d be at his mercy. Shewouldlose. Something far more precious than her freedom or her name.
“I can’t.” She dropped her hands to her sides, her palms open and exposed. “I—I’m not—”
“Not ready,” he finished for her. He pulled back, his gaze searching. Too long, too knowing. His brows dipped down. “I see.”
He didn’t. Hecouldn’t.
Because she refused to see herself.
“I shouldn’t have taken the liberty.” His tone was gentle, contrite, as he stepped back.
It would be better if he were rough, unrepentant. He’d given her such pleasure. Been patient all this time. And she’d taken it all. He was right to be confused.
So was she.
Conscience had her biting her lip. “I’m sorry—”
“No.” His one word was cold, but the look in his eyes was tender. His throat worked as he swallowed. “Never apologize to me. I can accept such things from everyone else.Not you.”
Anna’s heart pinched. He wouldn’t accept her apology. No humor in his eyes now.
She’d truly hurt him this time.
“I’ll give you privacy to put yourself to rights,” he said, gaze straight ahead.
Anywhere but on her.
She clutched her dress to her chest. “Yes.”
He nodded and walked off in the direction of the house without a backward glance.
Anna sank to her knees, there on the damp bank, her gaze on the path he’d taken long after his figure had disappeared. Their parting had happened so fast.
Including her faltering.
She’d let her guard down since returning to Grandfellow Hall. All her defenses, her resolve, were slipping, leaving casualties on all fronts.
If she weren’t careful, she might not survive the next siege.
Still, her gaze went to the tree line and the man she’d harmed with her latest assault.
The wind kicked up, the breeze biting and chilling without his warmth surrounding her.
A sudden chill she felt to her bones.
The chill ofthe night air swept through the room where Jackson stood at his desk in the library.
He didn’t bother looking up at the man who’d snuck into the room before he said, “Any movement by the counterfeiters?”
Roberts—as agile as a cat—sat on the corner of the desk, his workman’s disguise replaced with a dark smock and a bowler’s hat. “Still like the grave.”
Damn.
