Hold Your Breath 02 - Unmasking the Marquess (20 page)

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.

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?”

“Your father.”

A sharp intake of breath, and she jerked her hand from his. “My father? What? I did not think you even knew him.”

“I do. I know him well.”

Reanna rubbed her forehead, and then her head snapped up. “You. You ruined him, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” Killian was surprised she put it together so quickly.

“What did you do to him? Why? I have never heard how or why he was ruined, only that it happened.”

“This started long before I was born.” Killian ran his fingers through his hair. “My father had vices. Vices that brought him down to hell. He was a good man, a good father, a good husband. But he was addicted to gambling. Gambling on investments. Gambling at the tables. He tried time and again to stop, but he was addicted, and there are those that prey on men like him. Offer them riches. Cheat them. His desperation was taken advantage of. Debt after debt piled upon each other, and eventually, every tangible piece of the estate was lost to one man. Your father.”

“But that is money, Killian. You now have all the money you could ever need, and yet you did all you did to me because of money?” Her voice had grown weak.

Killian turned from her, eyes locked onto the rectangular patch of primroses across from them. “Had it only been a lost fortune, things would be different today. But it was not. Your father suggested to mine that death would be the most honorable way to clear the debts, to save the family. With complete ruin imminent, my father killed himself to avoid scandal—to avoid marring the family line.”

Her gasp was not a surprise. Killian could not bring himself to look at her. He did not want to see the pity he knew was in her eyes. Beyond himself, only two living people knew of his father’s suicide, Devin and Aggie. And now Reanna.

He stood from the bench, back to her. “It was then I started dreaming of my revenge against your father. I went into the military early, too early, was promoted from the ranks, met Devin, and eventually rebuilt a fortune, much to Devin’s credit and support.”

“So how did you ruin my father?”

Killian turned to her, crossing his arms over his chest, voice, factual. “It took years, but piece by piece, we ruined all of your father’s investments. Sometimes by proxy. Sometimes through acquaintances. Until all your father had left was his sizable investment in one of Devin’s shipping companies. And then we sank a ship, bankrupting the company.”

“You sank a ship?”

“We did. No one died. But it ruined the company. Your father was penniless, and he blamed, very publicly, Devin for it. Questioned his honor, which of course, Devin would not stand for.”

Killian paused, not sure if he should continue. Reanna was quickly turning pale, mouth slightly askew. But he promised her honesty.

He took a steadying breath, and continued.

“They were to duel, and I was to stand in for Devin. It had been the plan all along. But your father never arrived for the duel. Left town a coward. Ruined. And then six months later, you appeared in London.”

There was very little reaction in Reanna’s posture, and Killian wasn’t sure what that meant. He moved to sit next to her on the bench.

“You, I had not planned on, Reanna. I thought we had taken everything from him, every chance he had to ever live a comfortable life again. I did not think he would whore out his own daughter.”

She recoiled. “Whore me out? No, he would not.”

“He did. You came to London as his last hope. He had one thing left to sell. You.”

“No. He wanted me to have a season.” Her breath visibly sped, her hand gripping the edge of the bench as she leaned forward, curling against his words.

“Reanna, you came into town with a list in hand of eligible bachelors.”

“You knew that?”

“Of course we did. The list—did it consist of young, virile men?”

“No.”

“Did they all have money, lots of it?”

“Yes.”

“Were they, to a one, old, lecherous creatures?”

Eyes wide, she nodded.

“He whored you out, Reanna. I know it is hard to hear, but you were his last chance. The money you would have given him access to was his last desperate grab against becoming a pauper.”

She stood as her hand went to her chest, pressing back against the rapid rise and fall of her lungs. “And then you…”

“Yes. I have more money than all of those fools combined, and your father got greedy. He did not think twice about agreeing to our marriage. The solicitor I sent to him said he near drooled when he was told I was hoping for your hand in marriage.”

She staggered backward from him. “Oh, God. You never. You truly never even…liked me. Never even looked at me.”

Killian shot to his feet. “Reanna—”

“I was a pawn?”

There was no use in dishonesty. “Yes.”

“A tool used merely for revenge? The last pawn?”

“Yes, but—”

“No. Stop. I fell all the damn way in love with you, Killian. And you never even liked me.” Her hand flicked up, finger pointing. “You never once even saw me. All you saw was your revenge.”

She whipped away, taking a few steps, then spun, stalking back toward Killian. She stopped a step away from him, heaving, and kicked the table under the chess set hard, sending pieces flying and clattering to the cobblestone.

Her face cringed in pain, but it only stoked her fury. “I have spent half of a year trying to understand why you would hate me so. I changed everything—every damn thing—about myself, trying to please you. Trying to become interesting, the type of woman you could love. And you damn well never even saw me.”

“No, Reanna,” Killian interrupted her, voice low, hands clenching and unclenching. “I did see you. Our wedding night. Our wedding night, I saw you. And hell. It shook me to my very being. All my hate. Gone. Just like that. That one night threatened to take every intention of revenge I had and shred it.”

He swallowed the step between them. “I lived for more than twenty-five years in hatred. In planning revenge. And one night with you, and I forgot about it.” His arm flew up. “Considered giving up every thought I ever had on revenge. But I could not let that happen. I was too damn scared. Revenge was the only thing I breathed. Revenge was the only thing I was. I could not let that go.”

She took a step backward, spinning away from him. “Hell, Killian…I thought…I mean, I knew you must have had your reasons, but…” Her head angled to the sky, and Killian could see tears starting to fall. “I was nothing to you—ever. I am such an idiot. How could I have not seen that in you? How could I have loved you so much and never once seen the reality of what was before me?”

He stepped in front of her. “You are not an idiot, Reanna. I built a life where even I didn’t know what reality was. You were the first real thing I recognized in…in forever. You don’t understand—”

“I don’t understand what?” Her wet eyes narrowed on him. “That you could possibly be an even lower person than I thought you were? That your own self-righteous vengeance would allow you to—without a second thought—destroy me?”

“No, that was never the case.”

“That was exactly what happened. You destroyed me. And do not try to tell me you did not know what you were doing. I begged you. Begged you. I was on my goddamn knees in front of you, Killian.”

His eyes closed, her words slicing through his chest.

“You did all of this without any regard to who got hurt in the process.” Her head shook. “It makes me sick to think I was blind enough to love you. Stupid enough to marry you.”

“Reanna—”

“It is time for me to leave this place, Killian. I want nothing more to do with you.”

Before he could reply, she spun away from him.

Head high, she walked out of the garden.