Victoria took a deep breath and exhaled. “I suppose I owe you an apology as well.”

Robert let out a ragged sigh, exquisite relief surging through him. This time he let himself take her hands into his. “Then we can begin anew,” he said fervently.

Victoria tried to tell herself to pull her hands away, but the feeling was too achingly tender. His skin was warm, and she was so tempted just to lean into his waiting embrace. It wouldn't be so dreadful to feel loved once again—to feel treasured.

She looked up at him. His blue eyes were staring at her with an intensity that both frightened and thrilled her. She felt something touch her cheek, then realized it was a tear. “Robert, I—” She stopped, realizing that she didn't know what to say.

He leaned forward, and Victoria saw that he meant to kiss her. And then, to her horror, she realized that she wanted his lips on hers. “No!” she burst out, as much for her own benefit as for his. She pulled her gaze away from him and then pulled her hands away, too.

“Victoria—”

“Stop.” She sniffled and fixed her gaze on the window. “You don't understand me anymore.”

“Then tell me what I need to know. Tell me what I need to do to make you happy.”

“Don't you understand? You can't make me happy!”

Robert flinched, unable to believe how wounded he was by that one statement. “Would you care to explain yourself?” he said stiffly.

She let out a hollow laugh. “You gave me the moon, Robert. No, you did more than that. You picked me up and put me right on it.” There was a long, painful pause, and then she said, “And then I fell. And it hurt so much when I landed. I don't want that again.”

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“It won't happen again. I am older and wiser now. We are both older and wiser.”

“Don't you see? It has already happened twice.”

“Twice?” he echoed, thinking that he very much didn't want to hear what she had to say.

“At the Hollingwoods,” she said, her voice oddly flat. “When you asked me to be your—”

“Don't say it.” His voice was curt.

“Don't say what? ‘Mistress’? It's a fine time for you to suddenly develop scruples.”

He paled. “I never knew you could be so vindictive.”

“I'm not being vindictive. I'm being honest. And I didn't just fall off the moon that time. You pushed me.”

Robert took a deep and ragged breath. It was not in his nature to beg, and part of him wanted desperately to defend himself. But he wanted Victoria more, and so he said, “Then let me make amends, Torie. Let me marry you and give you children. Let me spend every day of my life worshipping the ground you walk upon.”

“Robert, don't.” Her voice was shaky, and he knew he'd seen something flare in her eyes when he mentioned children.

“Don't what?” he tried to joke. “Worship the ground you walk upon? It's too late. I already do that.”

“Don't make this so hard,” she said, her voice only slightly more than a whisper.

His lips parted in amazement. “And why the hell should I not? You tell me why I should make it easy for you to walk out of my life again.”

“I never walked out on you,” she shot back. “You left. You.”

“Neither of us is blameless. You were quick to believe the worst of me as well.”

Victoria didn't say anything.

He leaned forward, his eyes intense. “I will not give up on you, Victoria. I'll haunt you day and night. I'll make you admit that you love me.”

“I don't,” she whispered.

The carriage came to a halt, and Robert said, “We seem to have arrived at your home.”

Victoria immediately gathered up her belongings and reached for the door. But before she touched the polished wood, Robert's hand descended onto hers.

“Just one moment,” he said, his voice hoarse.

“What do you want, Robert?”

“A kiss.”

“No.”

“Just one kiss. To get me through the night.” Victoria stared into his eyes. They were hot ice, burning straight into her soul. She licked her lips; she couldn't help it.

Robert's hand moved to the back of her head. His touch was achingly soft. If he had applied pressure or tried to force her, she knew she could have resisted. But his gentleness was disarming, and she couldn't pull away.

His lips touched hers, brushing back and forth until he felt her soften beneath him. His tongue moistened one corner of her mouth, then the other, then outlined the edge of her full lips.

Victoria thought she might melt.

But then he pulled away. His hands were shaking. Victoria looked down and realized that hers were, too.

“I know my limits,” he said in a low voice.

Victoria blinked, realizing with despair that she didn't know her own. Another second of his sensual torture and she would have been on the floor of the carriage, begging him to love her. Shame colored her face and she left the carriage, letting MacDougal take her trembling hand in his to help her down. Robert followed immediately after her, and then swore viciously when he realized where he was.

Victoria didn't quite live in the worst part of town, but it came damn close. It took Robert a good ten seconds before he was calm enough to say, “Please tell me you don't live here.”

She gave him an odd look and pointed to a fourth-story window. “Right there.”

Robert's throat worked violently. “You…are not…going to remain here,” he said, barely able to get the words out.

Victoria ignored him and began to walk toward her building. Robert had his arm around her waist within seconds. “I don't want to hear another word out of you,” he barked. “You are coming home with me this instant.”




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