“Tell me.”
She opened her eyes, only to see dark flecks of intensity in the brown of his eyes. Intensity in trying to understand her. In trying to make her see him.
She took a deep breath. “Since we married, my heart has failed me, my mind has failed me. Again and again. The only thing that has not failed me is that visceral fear deep in my stomach.”
“Fear?”
She gave the slightest nod. “Every time that I have felt it, the fear building up, telling me that maybe I should not be doing something—that I should be inside, safe from the world, safe from something new, safe from a challenge, choosing easy—I ignored it. And every time I had ignored my twisting stomach, done the thing I least wanted, it has turned out to be better than I imagined. It has made me whole when I was nothing.
“Learning to ride, even though I was deathly afraid of breaking my neck. Learning chess from Ruperton and Evans, even though each time I sat down with them, I thought my lack of intelligence would be glaring. Following Thomas home, when I really just wanted to ride away and pretend that I never saw him. Travelling to London with the children. Every one of those moves was the wrong one, according to my stomach. But every move was the right one. I would not be where I am right now, if not for all those times my gut curdled against me, and it would annoy me so, that I would ignore it.”
“And what is the fear telling you right now?”
“It is telling me to run. That you will only cause me more pain. Pain that I would not survive.”
Killian dropped his gaze from her, and after a moment, he stood, his hand slipping from hers. Then he held out his fingers to her. “Are you going to listen to your fear, or are you going to ignore it?”
Reanna shook her head, eyebrows raised. She truly could not manifest an answer.
With a deep breath, but no words, she put her hands in his and went gently to her feet.
Killian slid his right arm under her shoulder and around her waist for full support. His left hand went across her front to her far hip.
Reanna froze. This hold was nothing like earlier when he had helped her hobble down to the garden. This was him, all over her, his shoulder muscles tense under her fingertips, breath mingling with hers.
“What are you feeling, Ree? Right now, in this one moment in time?”
She turned into him, letting her forehead fall forward and rest on his chest. His heartbeat thudded on her skin, steady, patient. What did she feel? What did she truly want? And could she honestly admit to it?
“This is hard. Too hard. You turn parts of me inside out, Killian. Raw. Aching for your touch.” She kept her head down.
Killian didn’t reply, but she could feel his muscles tense, coil, at her words. He stayed silent.
Minutes passed, and she couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.
As long as her eyes were open. As long as she saw that today was today, and tomorrow he could be gone or send her away again. As long as she protected that part of her heart, the place where hoped live, she could do it.
If only for a few days. Her body begged for it.
Besides, she could leave. He promised it. So what was the harm? What was the harm in quenching her constantly pulsating body? Quelling her imaginations, her dreams of him. What was the harm, as long as she controlled her heart?
Breath exhaling, she pulled back, eyes travelling up his chest, his neck, to meet his brown eyes.
“I want you.” The words slipped out, breathless, before she could control them, before she was even sure she wanted to utter them.
But once they were in the air, a wicked flush invaded her—her body betraying everything she held fast against. The pit in her stomach morphed into a burn. A burn she could not ignore. Could not deny. Whatever the future, whatever the past. She wanted him in this moment.
Her hands went around his neck, fingernails curling against his skin. “I want you. And damn the past. Damn the future. I want you now.”
Body uncoiling, he was on her in an instant, his mouth capturing hers. His tongue, his breath hot, matching the fire she felt under her skin.
His arm around the small of her back, he took her weight, even as his free hand came up, diving into the thick of her hair, slanting her head for deeper access.
Reanna groaned, and he pulled up slightly, not allowing her air away from his breath. “If I don’t carry you upstairs right now, I will be taking you on the bench, world be dammed.”
“Take me wherever you want, Killian, I don’t care.”
He picked her up, mouth on hers, and brushed past the evergreen hedge before her words finished.
Kicking the door closed in his room, Killian was to the bed in three strides, landing on top of her, hands working her dress.
She didn’t note the fabric ripping as she was busy tearing away his linen shirt and buckskin breeches.
His naked body, in all its glorious weight, covered her, and she gasped, half in exploding desire, half in pain.
Killian jerked up. “Shit, your feet.”
She grabbed his shoulders, pulling him down onto her. “No, they are fine, I just forgot. It is only my heels. I will be careful.”
He held fast against her hands straining him downward, staring at her. “No.”
His eyes flipped up, looking around. He grabbed her wrists, removing her hands from his neck, and straightened on his knees.
“No.” Her breath sped, “Killian, don’t leave.”
“Not a chance, Ree.” His mouth met hers, kissing her sudden alarm into submission. “Just better positioning.”
He slipped his hands under her waist and flipped her onto her stomach, taking care that her feet didn’t hit the bed hard.
His mouth went behind her ear as his left hand slipped down to her breasts, cupping it, teasing the nipple. “On your knees.”
She pushed up, but was not quick enough for Killian, and he lifted and moved her, setting her upright on her knees, her belly flat against the top of the wide mahogany footboard.
“The top of your feet, do they hurt?”
“No.”
Groaning, his chest covered her back as his left hand recaptured her breast. His right fingers slid down between her belly and the footboard, landing between her legs, parting and invading her folds at the same time.
Gasping at the touch, shockwaves riveted her body, and Reanna reached back, nails digging into his neck.
“The pain—is this all right, Ree?”
All Reanna could do was nod through a purring moan as her body rode the rhythm his hand set. Both of his legs slid forward between her calves, parting her thighs even further as his heat mingled with hers. The tip of him rested, nudged into her while his mouth attacked her neck, teeth running along the curves of her neck.
“I will hold out until you come, Ree, again and again, but hell, I want to be in you, driving deep into your body. But not until you tell me to. I will wait until—”
“Now, Killian, now. I want you filling me. No more waiting. Now.”
He slammed up into her, months of pent-up desire unleashed in the thrust.
Gasping, her hands left him to grip the smooth, carved wood of the footboard, leveraging herself against his onslaught. But he would let her gain no space from him, both of his hands on her breasts, then moving down to her hips as took her from below.
She leaned forward, doubling over the footboard as his thrusts sent her to the edge, screaming. And then his fingers went deep, propelling her into a chasm of blinding light, her body arching. She could feel him expanding deep within her, and she held hard against his final throes, meeting him thrust for thrust until he exploded.
For harsh moments they panted, Killian covering her and the both of them draped over the edge of the footboard. Killian managed to move, still deep within her, and lifted Reanna, laying them down on their sides.
Arms wrapping her, his face deep in her hair, Reanna fell asleep in his sticky hot cocoon.
This moment was hers.
And it came with no regrets.
~~~
Reanna woke the next morning, alone. She knew it before she opened her eyes. Knew it before the shadow of dreams left her.
She stayed still, eyes closed for long minutes, willing it to be different. Willing there to be Killian’s warm body behind her. But it wasn’t.
He had left her again.
The tears started immediately once she acknowledged the cruel fact that Killian was gone. She glanced around the room to confirm, and it was true.
She had been stupid.
She had thought she could protect her heart, but it wasn’t possible. Not with Killian. Not since the moment he kissed her last night. Not since his hands touched her skin. She had thought she could control herself. She couldn’t. She had gone whole heart—she wasn’t capable of any other way with him.
Curling into a ball, she dragged the silk coverlet to her face, soaking it within seconds with silent tears.
“Ree, Ree, good God, are you hurt?” Killian’s voice rushed across the room to her.
She turned in the bed to his voice.
He landed on the bed, his hand on her shoulder. “Ree, what is going on?”
She looked up at him, blinking away the tears, the emotion. “I thought…I thought…You were not here when I woke up. So I thought…”
“You thought I left you again?”
She nodded. She couldn’t get words past the lump of fear in her throat.
“I was just downstairs arranging for the children to visit today.”
“Oh.” She sat up, wiping her cheeks with the palms of her hands as she shook her head, her eyes trained on her lap. “I cannot do it, Killian. I am too vulnerable with you. I cannot. Waiting for you to…”
She took a deep breath, then looked up, meeting his brown eyes, not able to keep her voice from cracking. “I want you—God, I want you, Killian. But I cannot handle being destroyed again. I cannot.”
He moved forward on the bed until she could feel his breath on her skin. Hand gentle on her cheek, he traced a wet line with his thumb. “Reanna, I promise you, right here, right now. You will never open your eyes alone again. If that is what you need to believe in me, believe in us, I will be here. No matter what. I will be here. Give me a chance to prove it.”
She looked into the depths of his eyes, searching for truth. She wanted this so badly, it hurt, aching, deep in her chest. And then she saw it. The flicker, the raw honesty in his words, in his intentions.
She would need to learn to trust this.
She nodded, her cheek brushing his hand.
His other hand went to her face, capturing her before she could look away. Killian did his own searching, his eyes following the contours of her face, reading her eyes.
Satisfied with what he saw, he drew her close for a slow kiss, then pulled back, smiling. “It is raining, so it is the perfect day—I have some things I want to show you. I would like your opinions.”
“My opinions—on what?”
“You will see. Food and dressed first.”
An hour later, Killian helped her down the stairs from his room. His hand wrapped around her ribcage, planting solidly above the high waist on her violet muslin dress. His fingers slid up as they walked, taking full ownership of the bottom of her breast. It wasn’t the polite hold he had offered in the past few days, it instead, bordered on mauling. But, she had to admit, if he chose to maul her like this from here through eternity, she wouldn’t mind.
They passed by several rooms before he steered her into his study. Or what she assumed was the study. It held a wall of bookcases, full, a desk and one chair behind it. That was all. No other furniture.
She realized that was the exact thing that she had thought strange in the other rooms they passed, but did not think to comment on it.
He moved her behind the desk, setting her onto the lone chair.
She looked up at him as he half-sat on the desk, facing her. “Where did all your furniture go? I could have sworn I saw things in the rooms when you brought me outside.”
“Actually, I was waiting for you,” Killian said, excited gleam in his eye. “I realized that I had never cared for much of my furniture or décor in this house. All of it was for show, for the fashion, but that did not mean I liked any of it. I have gotten a few pieces that I am confident I like and will suit me. But the rest. The rest I thought I would leave to you. You and your tastes.”
“You just removed everything?”
“Much of it went to your aunt’s home. It did look like the children were wearing through your aunt’s silk furniture rather quickly. So if you would like to help, I would appreciate your choices. I want this home to reflect you. To be for you.”
“But Killian—”
“There is no pressure attached. Whatever will happen in the future, will happen. But I have to believe, have to remain optimistic that someday…someday this will be your home. Your true home, with me. Please?”
Slowly, Reanna nodded, both awestruck and unnerved that her opinion would mean so much to him.
No pressure, indeed.
{ Chapter 17 }
Her feet had actually been fine for three days. She wasn’t limping, and they caused almost no discomfort. But she had held off from admitting it. Even limped a little in front of Killian, so he wouldn’t question her progress.
But there they were, two feet, ten toes, smooth and scab free. The new skin pink and shiny.
She didn’t want this to end. She wanted to stay in this bubble where Killian adored her, listened to her, twisted her body into the most imaginative contortions. She didn’t want to know whatever it was that Killian had to tell her. Even though she knew she needed to hear the truth. Needed it to fully move on with him. And it hurt how much she needed to move on with him.
“You have them uncovered.” Killian walked into the room, interrupting her thoughts. “Let me see.”
Before she could rewrap them, Killian sat on the bed and picked up her leg, fingers slipping into the crook behind her knee where he knew she was ticklish.
She laughed as she jerked her leg away, but he caught her ankle and set her left foot on his lap, silently looking over the skin. He ran his fingers over the new skin, leaving no crook untouched. Satisfied with the first, he silently grabbed her right foot and gave it the same examination.
Done, he set both of her feet onto the bed, and looked up at her. Solemnness had replaced the playfulness in his eyes. “They are healed, are they not?”
Reanna nodded, unable to force the one word past her tight throat.
“How long have they been like this?”
Reanna swallowed hard. “Three days.”
His head went down, eyes avoiding her. Then he slowly stood from the bed. It took long moments before his eyes met hers. “We do not have to do this, Reanna. We can go on, never speak of a day before you came here. Let it be past. Untouched. Unexamined.”
“Killian…”
He gave one curt nod, straightening. “It is nice out today. Will you meet me in the garden in an hour?”
Breath deserting her, Reanna gave the slightest tilt of her chin.
Killian backed out of the room, disappearing behind the closed door.
~~~
He waited on the bench for her, words flying through his mind. What he would say—what he could say. How could he tell her this, the truth, and still convince her to stay?
His gaze shifted down to his weathered chess set on a low table in front of him. The staff brought it out here on the nice days, and he knew Reanna was comforted by its very presence. Something tangible, the first bridge between them. Hours spent staring at the board had been his way in. His way into her mind, her heart. It was the only reason she had learned to listen to him again. But little black and white pieces couldn’t fix this.
Damn himself for promising the truth.
But he wasn’t about to lie to her.
If she needed this, he would give it to her. He would give her the whole
damn bloody world if it meant she would stay with him.
He heard her light footsteps crunching on the gravel granite path deep in the gardens behind him. She had chosen the long winding path to the bench, not the straight, cobblestoned path. Her footsteps were even, not hiccupped or jerking. She was healed. As healed as he could make her.
The crunching slowed, and Reanna appeared through the opening in the evergreen hedge, the trepidation lining her face doing nothing to mar her beauty—the glowing beauty that he had seen come alive over the past weeks. No, the trepidation only gave a haunting quality to her blue eyes.
Was it possible she didn’t want to do this as much as he didn’t want to do this?
Silently, she approached him, then stopped a step away, looking at him and then to the bench, not sure what to do with herself.
Killian held his hand up to her. “Please, sit.”
She took it and sat, but kept a swath of distance between the two of them.
“I am not sure how to start this, Reanna. How to explain what happened. Why I did what I did to you.”
Her hand slipped from his, landing in her lap, and her eyes followed. “Was it something I did?”
“What? No. God no. You are what’s right, Ree. I was what was wrong for a long time. But no more.” His hand went to her cheek, fingers settling on her neck just below her upsweep, thumb tilting her head up. “The whole of it, it didn’t have anything to do with you, Reanna. You just got caught. Caught in my hate.”
“Hate?”
“It is not an excuse, but I have been living in hate for so long, Reanna. I was mired so deep in it, there was no escape. And I did not even recognize what I had become. My hate became habit. Became who I was without even realizing it.”
His hand dropped from her cheek to grab her hand. “But you were—you are—the light banishing all that hate surrounding me. For the longest time, I turned my back to it, to you. But your light. It is too bright. It brought me out of all that.”
Her eyes were full of confusion, yet didn’t waver from his. “I do not understand this, Killian. Who do you hate? Why? And how did I get caught in whatever you are talking about?”
Hold Your Breath 02 - Unmasking the Marquess Page 19