Chapter 16 #2
“Do you want to hear all the things that I wish to tell you?”
“When you say it like that,” she said, stuttering again, “well, you make me nervous.”
“That makes two of us.”
“It’s hard for me to fathom that I could make you nervous,” she let out a small laugh. “I mean, you are a Duke, and it is rather unbecoming of you to be nervous about anything.”
“For the time being, I want you to put to rest the assumptions that you have about me,” he told her. She could tell that it was taking a great deal of courage to speak like this.
She had never heard him be so honest before, and it felt like she couldn’t get enough of it.
“Go on, then,” she said to him. “Tell me then.”
“I wanted to tell you that you are kind, even when you pretend to be difficult, and that you have made this house happier in a few weeks than I managed in years. Sarah laughs more now and the servants seem less terrified of breathing too loudly whenever I enter a room. I wanted to tell you that I look forward to dinner because you will be there, which is absurd because I spent most of my life treating dinner as an obligation to be endured, and now I notice when you are late.”
Augusta’s eyes burned suddenly. Ronan did not seem to notice, or perhaps he noticed and had decided not to stop.
“You ask me questions I do not want to answer, and you argue when I give you instructions, and you tell me when you think I am wrong even when everyone else has learned to remain silent, but somehow none of that makes me want you to stop. It makes me want you near me more often, and I have been trying to understand when that happened.”
Augusta pressed her lips together. She knew if she spoke too soon, she might cry.
That would be intolerable.
Ronan’s gaze dropped briefly toward her mouth.
The memory of the previous night passed between them without either needing to mention it.
His voice changed when he continued.
“And I wanted to tell you that last night, when I had my hand around your waist and you looked at me the way you did, I wanted to kiss you so badly that I forgot why I had touched you in the first place.”
Augusta’s heart stumbled.
Ronan stepped closer again, and now there was scarcely more than an arm’s length between them.
“I wanted to kiss you then,” he said, and for the first time his gaze remained on her mouth instead of returning immediately to her eyes.
“I wanted to kiss you when you came downstairs tonight, and I wanted to kiss you during that damned dance when you looked disappointed because I could not tell you something every other man in the room had apparently managed to notice.”
Augusta’s pulse thundered.
“And I want to kiss you now.”
She forgot how to breathe.
The garden, the ballroom, the music somewhere behind them, even the faint fear that had sent her spinning around a moment before seemed to disappear beneath the weight of those words.
“Then why are you standing all the way over there?” Augusta asked before her courage could abandon her.
He took the remaining step between them.
“I am standing here because I promised I would never do something you did not want,” he said, and the warmth in his expression did nothing to lessen the seriousness in his voice.
“So I am going to give you three seconds to tell me no, and if you say it at any point, I will stop. But if you do not, Augusta, I am going to kiss you.”
Her entire body seemed to respond to the words before her mind could.
Ronan watched her carefully.
“One.”
Two.”
His gaze dropped to her mouth. The space between them seemed suddenly unbearable.
“Three.”
For all the anticipation that had built between them, the first touch of his mouth was unexpectedly careful, as though even after counting down he could not entirely believe she had given him permission, and his hand came to her waist without pulling her closer until Augusta, acting on instinct rather than thought, caught the front of his coat in her fingers.
She had never understood how a kiss could make people forget where they were until now, because there was nothing in her mind except the warmth of his mouth, the solid line of his body against hers, and the hand at her waist that seemed impossibly hot even through the fabric of her gown.
When Ronan finally drew back, he did not go far. “There is something else,” he said.
Augusta’s heart immediately began misbehaving again. “More? I am not sure I can survive much more honesty from you tonight.”
Ronan smiled faintly, but his gaze remained steady on hers. “I do not know when this happened, and I do not particularly like not knowing. I can usually identify exactly when something changes, what caused it, and what I am supposed to do about it, but I cannot do that with you.”
Augusta said nothing but Ronan continued.
“I know that I married you because I wanted someone for Sarah, and I know that when we stood together on our wedding day I was thinking more about duty than anything else. I thought if we became friends, if you cared for Sarah and were content here, that would be enough.”
“I…” She stuttered. It was a lot trying to take all of this in, though none of it was unwelcome.
“I thought you wished for me to be more honest with you,” he replied. His eyes never left her face, as though he was trying to figure out everything that there was to know about her. “You still want me to?”
“Yes.” The answer was immediate.
“I’m not sure how to say it myself.” he rubbed the back of his neck. Augusta wasn’t sure if her eyes were fooling her, but she thought she saw a hint of nervousness in him.
“You already know that there is not much to hide from me,” she replied. “I already accept you for the way that you are.”
“That’s precisely what has gotten me to surrender,” he muttered under his breath.
Her eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. “Surrender to what?”
He looked at her closely again and took a step closer to her. “Would you believe me if I said that I am falling in love with you, and don’t think that I can stop now.”
Her heart nearly exploded at the confession. Oh. How much had she wanted to hear those words from him, and now that they had finally arrived, she found herself entirely robbed of all speech. She looked at him, blinked, and then found herself wondering if she was in a dream.
“What’s the matter?” his brows stitched together.
“I…” she opened her mouth, barely finding her own voice. “I… are you joking with me?”
He looked at her, offended and then let out a laugh. “I am sure that you know already that I don’t have much of a reputation as a comic.”
She pinched herself then, and when she didn’t wake up, she knew that it was not a dream.