Page 442 of Conveniently Wed
He walked to the window, staring into the black. “I have enough friends.”
Pain sluiced through her, churning into anger. Why would he talk to her this way? She bit back a retort and pressed her eyes shut to settle herself. Anger would not be the best way to find out what was happening.
She moved beside him and placed her hand on his upper arm. The muscle beneath her fingers tightened as he crossed his arms. “Well, I don’t have enough friends.” She kept her voice soft.
He wrenched free of her hand and paced the room. “No one marries a woman for friendship.”
“I was more than a friend. I was your wife, we shared life, we made love.”
He spun to face her, his eyes blazing hard. “Love. Did you ever makeloveto me? Have you ever said you loved me?”
She gulped back the knot of failure choking her words. “But, Josiah?—”
“I don’t need another friend, Katherine.” His voice was as hard as his eyes. “And if you’re in here out of some sense of duty, then I might as well go down to the local saloon.”
She gasped, pressing a hand to her mouth as more pain burned her chest. “That was not what we had.”
“You’re right. It was not whatyouhad, but unless you can tell me you love me, it was what I had. What I still have.” A deep longing filled his eyes. “You don’t get it, and I fear you never will.”
His look nearly rent her in two. She reached out a hand toward him. “Help me, Josiah. I want?—”
“You want what?” Desire smoldered hot in his gaze, and he shuddered.
“I want—” She couldn’t say it. Did she even know what she wanted?
With a sigh and a curse, he hauled her up against his bare chest. “I don’t have any problem knowing what I want. You’re all I want.” His mouth crushed against hers. His lips hard and desperate, hungrily sought the fullness of the kiss.
He picked her up and lowered her to the bed without taking his lips from hers. The usual tenderness was gone. In its place, a raw hunger, a desperate urgency, seemed to grip him. This time, there was little of the sweetness her husband usually offered so willingly.
At last, Josiah’s anger seemed spent, and he rolled over with his back to her. “Please go.” His voice caught. “In the future, I’d prefer you respect my private space as much as I respect yours. Don’t come in here uninvited.”
She’d never felt so raw and exposed as she slipped from the warm sheets and walked to her own room. Yet she forced herself to hold her head high.
Never again would she initiate or beg.
22
Spring 1867
One Year Later
“Friend? Is that what we’re still calling this?”
Katie looked ahead, unable to meet Colby’s intense glare as he rode his horse beside hers. “You shouldn’t have followed me. I told you I needed space to clear my head.” She nudged her horse forward, but he caught up.
“You have a husband who has ignored you for over a year. There’s been no intimacy whatsoever, am I correct?”
Heat spread from her neckline to hairline. She’d shared too much. Colby knew the exact state of her farce of a marriage. There was no point in lying.
“Katie, please. Can we be honest about this?”
“Why? What good will honesty do?”
“We could make a plan. Find a way.”
When he used that gentle tone, it took every bit of her willpower to stay strong. But she had to, so she sent him a pointed look. “To what? Leave Josiah after all he’s done for my family—and for you? We’ll never do that.”
“But, Katie, I can’t help the way I feel about you.”
