Chapter 25 #2
He backed her toward the table, toward the bed, toward anything that would hold her while he forgot the whole miserable day.
Her hands came up to his shoulders, and his mouth moved against hers with growing desire.
He felt her open for him and took the opening greedily, pressing her back, grinding against her.
“Adam,” she gasped against his mouth.
He kissed her harder.
Her breath caught, and he could feel her body answer him. For a few dangerous seconds, he thought he could turn her anger into the same fire that had taken them the night before and turn whatever resentment she had into hunger and let it drown out the rest.
Until she shoved him away.
He stumbled back half a step and looked at her. She was breathing heavily, and so was he.
“No,” she said.
His whole body still burned from the kiss. “Emily, you wanted to kiss me, too.”
“Yes,” she scoffed. “And now I am stopping.”
He dragged a hand through his hair. “Do not make this uglier than it already is.”
A hysterical laugh escaped her lips. “Then stop answering everything with your mouth and your hands.”
He raised his hands in confused frustration. “What would you have me answer it with?”
“I do not know, Adam. Perhaps the truth?”
He laughed once, low and bitter. “You think I have hidden that from you?”
“I think you keep hiding behind the part of it that hurts you most because it saves you from admitting the rest.”
His jaw tightened. “And what rest is that, since you are so perceptive?”
She exhaled. “What is between us.”
He turned away from her for one second and then back again. The room felt too small for the heat inside him.
“You want to know what is between us?”
Emily swallowed. “Yes. And frankly, I think you do, too.”
Adam laughed. “You think I am too blind to recognize things for what they are?”
“Adam, I did not say?—”
“You think I am too stupid to want something, do you not? That I do not know what I’m doing.”
“Adam. Please, I do not?—”
“You know what?” Adam cut her off, raising his hands. “You are so intent on knowing what is between us, I might as well tell you. Lust. It is lust .”
She stared at him as if he had insulted them both.
“Just plain old desires of the flesh.”
Emily looked down at the floor for a minute before looking back up at him. “Is that all you really think is happening here?”
Adam closed the gap between them again. “Your body is maddening, Emily. I cannot seem to get it out of my head. And I am certain you think the same of my body.”
Her eyes glared hard into his.
“Don’t you, Duchess?” he asked, his voice dropping.
A moment of silence passed between them. Nothing else could be heard except the pounding of their hearts.
“It may be lust when I want you to touch me,” she allowed, her voice striking into the thick wave of quietness. “But it’s not lust when I want to see you smile. It’s not lust when I admire how you take care of your siblings…”
He snapped before she could finish.
“And it won’t be lust when you make me jealous and I can’t control myself. It won’t be lust when I break that fool Redwick’s neck for talking to you.”
The words rang in the room.
Emily took one slow breath. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “That is exactly my point.”
He swore under his breath and turned away again. She had him cornered, and they both knew it. He had tried to make it smaller, simpler, safer. She would not let him.
“Adam.”
He did not answer.
“Look at me.”
He exhaled and turned around again.
Her expression had changed. The anger was still there, but something sadder had moved beneath it.
“This is not only lust,” she said. “You know it. I know it. We would not keep hurting each other like this if it were only lust.”
His throat worked once. “I am not capable of love.”
The words fell flat and terrible between them.
Emily went very still, but he forced himself to continue because stopping would only leave the lie harder to come back from.
“And I will not have our children feel what I felt. I will not do that to them.”
The anger vanished from her face, and that frightened him more than tears would have.
For a second, she only looked at him. Then she crossed the space between them so slowly, he did not understand what she meant to do until her hand came up to his face.
Her fingers touched his cheek, and he closed his eyes. The tenderness of it nearly undid him.
“Then let me go,” she whispered.
His eyes flew open. “What?”
She dropped her hand. “We were wrong to marry.” Her voice shook once, then steadied. “We are not right for each other.”
“No.”
“Yes.” She swallowed. “I deserve love, and you deserve someone who respects your decisions.”
The words hit him like a blow because they were too calm. She was not raging now. She had stepped past rage and into something worse.
“Emily,” he begged. “Do not say this.”
“I want an annulment.”
The room seemed to tilt.
He stared at her. He understood every word and still could not make them mean what they meant. She had moved too fast, and he had not caught up. His mind was still stuck on her hands roaming over his face.
She went to the chair where her shawl had been left and picked it up with hands far steadier than his.
“Where are you going?”
“To my sister’s room tonight.” She draped the shawl over her shoulders. “I do not think it is a good idea for both of us to stay here. I shall find a way to come collect my things at Huxley Manor when you are not around.”
The words hit him like a thunderstorm, and he could not remain still for more than a second. She was already arranging her life away from him.
He took one step toward her.“Emily, wait.”
She came close, rose on her tiptoes, and kissed his cheek. The softness of it almost killed him.
When she pulled back, her eyes were bright. “Goodbye for now, Adam.”
Then she was gone, and the door closed behind her.
For one second, he stood there doing nothing at all, as if the room might correct itself if he waited long enough.
It did not. She had gone.
She was not coming back.
No. No.
Adam raised his fists and slammed them down on the table as hard as he could.