Cold Truths

It was well after midnight, when he stepped into the library and she knew, without turning from the fireplace that it was him and not some other member of the household, wandering about, restless and anxious and unable to sleep; she knew it was him, because something inside her simply always knew when he was near, even if she didn’t see him with her eyes, her soul knew. And it terrified her. It terrified her almost as much as it thrilled her, forbidden as that thrill was, when he with steps so silent, she didn’t actually hear him cross the room, but hearing didn’t matter, nothing mattered, when his arms slipped around her waist with possessive intent that had her instinctively reclining against his chest when common sense told her to pull away.

A whimper of wanton need escaped her, when his lips brushed over her neck, ghosting over her skin, his breath deliciously warm, fanning the every growing flames of need that raged inside her; flames that only he had ever created within her, while his brother – the man she was there to marry, the man she had been promised to when they were children – never made her feel even a flicker of warmth, when he placed a chaste his against her hand. “We can’t…” The words, the refusal, the denial, faded when he kissed the sensitive skin beneath her ear and she wanted, gods how she wanted, to turn around in his arms and finally feel his lips claim hers, but she knew if she did turn, if she allowed that claiming of lips, the claiming wouldn’t stop there.

If she kissed him, if he ever truly kissed her, she would be completely lost, honor and promises be damned, because if she allowed that kiss to happen, there would be no stopping, no going back, no more pretending her reputation or virtue mattered when all she wanted was become his and have him become hers.

“If you marry my brother, you will be miserable for the rest of your life.”

“I know.” She allowed the tears to slip from her eyes, as she whispered the words.

He sighed, sounding tired and defeated, as his arms released her and she knew, as he stepped back, as he would never make any attempt to hold her again.

“I leave tomorrow.”

“Don’t – “

“I won’t stand by and watch you marry a man you don’t love.”

His exist was as silent as his entrance, but she knew when he left, because he took the warmth with him, took her heart and a piece of her soul along with it, leaving her alone with only the truths he had spoken to provide cold company.

#NotExactlyWhatYouAskedFor #LosingLove #NotEvenSureWhatThisIs