Page 54 of The Herald's Heart
His face darkened, as if he blushed. “I am sorry for that.”
“No more than I.”
Silence fell between them. She made as if to rise.
“Larkin, please.” His hand shot out to cover her knee, effectively holding her in place. “Listen to me. I’m sorry.”
She looked at his hand. Under her skirts, her skin heated beneath his touch. “You admit you are wrong and beg my forgiveness. Is that supposed to make up for your distrust?”
“No, it is supposed to make you listen to me. I want to apologize.”
“You have already apologized.” She shrugged off his hand and stood. Her heart hurt. Even with his apology, she knew his claim of trust to be a feeble thing. “We have nothing further to say to each other.”
“Nay. Wed me and put an end to your search for the marriage box. No proof will exist of your marriage to my father or that you are Lady Rosham. No one will be damned, and you will be safe and happy.”
Why did he ask this of her now? He’d never said one word of love, and he knew she was his stepmother. Was that the reason, greed? With the earl dead, did Talon think to gain Hawksedge through marriage with its countess? Or mayhap he simply felt guilty. Well, she was neither the road to riches nor absolution.
“Safe, perhaps. Happy, never. Damned, definitely, for I will still have been married to your father in the eyes of the church and God whether proof exists or not. But did I marry you, I would condemn myself to a living hell with no name and no heritage. No thank you.”
His jaw clenched.
“Is that how you see marriage to me, a living hell? If nothing will satisfy you but justice for the dead and regaining your name, then I will get it for you,” he snarled. “Then I will seek annulment of your marriage to my father. Then I will haunt your days until you admit before God, church, and man that I am right. What I claim, I keep.”
“Nay, you cannot claim me.”
“You are wrong, Larkin.” He crowded her.
She backed away. “I am not, can never be, your wife,” she whispered.
“Mayhap, but you are mine.” He kept coming.
Her back hit the wall once more. She dared not meet his gaze, or he might see her denials for the falsehoods they were.
“Mine,” he whispered, taking her in his arms and sealing her mouth with his.
“Nay.” Larkin’s lips yielded to his. She wanted this, wanted him more than she could say. Her hands fisted in his hair and pulled. She could not want him; wanting him would only lead to more pain, more regret.
His hands wandered down her torso to her hips and beyond, stroking her buttocks and pulling her to him.
Her knees went weak, and she reveled in the crush of her breasts against his chest. Pulling his hair hadn’t worked. She tried pushing against his shoulders but could not get enough leverage.
His hardness pulsed against the juncture of her thighs. An answering pulse rose deep inside her, spreading through her body. More. No more. She drew one leg back, then gave a swift upward thrust with her knee.
Talon howled and fell to the floor. He lay there, curled into a ball, his hands clasped between his legs, and gasped for breath.
Suddenly free, Larkin sagged against the stones. Had she killed him?
Tears streamed down his face and his mouth moved, but no words escaped.
“I’m sorry, more sorry than I can say.”
Pure, unadulterated fury stared back at her from his pain-glazed eyes.
All sympathy fled. “You shouldn’t have tried to kiss me into submission.”
He groaned and rolled to his other side, away from her glare.
Since she could do naught for him, she left him for a moment to bundle her few belongings and pick up a pillow. When she returned, she saw his shoulders had relaxed. His head rested on the rushes, and his gasps had turned to pants, punctuated by an occasional whimper.
She set her bundle down, bent over him, and lifted his head.
He stared daggers at her from the corner of his eye.
She placed the pillow beneath his head. “I’m sorry for the pain I caused you. I’m not sorry that I stopped you. Believe me, this is best.”
She grasped her bundle and stood, then went to the door. “I cannot remain here, so I will go to the abbey until I can decide a more permanent destination. I’ll send someone to aid you.”
“You’ll regret this,” he managed to grind out.
“I already regret more than you can imagine.” Tears clouded her vision, and she stumbled blindly down the stairs.
