Page 46 of In Need of a Duke
He stepped forward, a growl in his throat as if her plea had hurt him.
Charlotte scoffed, tears nearly springing up in her eyes. “You have a heart, I know it. I knew it back when?—”
Ian grabbed her shirt and yanked her in against him, then crashed his lips against hers in a searing kiss.
She struggled for a moment, swallowing her surprise as she slowly melted into his touch.
Years.
So many wasted years, and over what?
Pride?
She was certain she hated him, but the longer his mouth moved against hers, the more she forgot the many reasons why.
Oh, Ian.
She raked her hands through his hair and kissed him back. It wasn’t gentle, but crushing and urgent. She met his movements with the same desperation as if failed words left only kissing as a solution.
His rough hand slid along her jaw and tilted her face upward, searching, the warm sun dancing across her skin as his soft lips explored hers.
She was aware of the birds in the nearby trees, the soft hush of the river behind them, the breeze carrying the salty, earthy scent of him. She was aware of it all and yet, she was fully wrapped up in Ian.
Her husband.
His tongue pressed against the seam of her mouth, and she parted her lips on a sigh, allowing him in.
Her body was warm, and the soft earth of early spring in the English countryside gave beneath her feet. She clung to him, not wishing to let go.
Terrified of what would happen when she did.
But, alas, his lips slowed, and they broke apart.
Charlotte glanced up at him, still wrapped around him and completely stunned.
Ian closed his eyes and exhaled, releasing her and stepping back as if her touch burned him.
“Well,” she said, swallowing hard. “You can’t kiss me like that?—”
“Like what?” He snapped, running his hand through his hair and throwing his head back toward the sky.
“Like what?”
The ground had moved under her feet only a moment ago. Or days ago. The kiss had changed the course of time forever. He had swept her up and kissed her until her knees were weak, and she had forgotten her name or why, precisely, they hated one another.
She suspected they truly didn’t.
And he was going to mess it up once more.
“That doesn’t change anything,” he insisted, dropping his hands to glare back at her. The dark, lifeless veil that separated him from the rest of the world, collapsed. She reached up and rubbed her hands over her arms, suddenly consumed by an unnerving chill.
“Can you not give me one answer?”
“I don’t know where to begin.”
She nodded, then spun for her horse. “I don’t need the summer to decide if we should seek a divorce. I know that is the only solution. If you cannot open yourself up to me, then I don’t want to be yours anymore.”
“You were never mine,” he said.
