shower and her damp hair curling around her neck and darkening the shoulders of her green silk robe, she looked good enough to eat. Except he wanted more than just sex. He wanted her soft and open and happy. With him.
“Yes?” she asked, her narrow hand still gripping the crystal handle of the door.
“Where are you going?”
A silent swallow moved in the long column of her slender neck, and he could see the nervous beat of her pulse beneath her skin. “I thought I’d check on Emma.”
“She never wakes up once she goes to sleep. You know that.”
She hesitated, just a fraction of a second, and he watched as her posture stiffened. It felt as if she were girding herself for battle, a battle he’d never wanted to fight in the first place.
“I’m not going to bite you,” he said, irritation riding his tone.
She hid her hazel eyes behind a fan of brown lashes. “Did I say you were?”
“You act like I am, and I’m tired of always feeling like I have to prove myself to you.”
“You don’t,” she whispered, her lush mouth trembling. “I know who you are and I’m content with that.”
“Really? You’re content? You’re happy?” he said softly, anger and frustration clawing at his chest. “Because it sure as hell doesn’t feel like you are.”
Pale as parchment, she said nothing to refute him.
“I didn’t think so,” he said.
“What do you want from me?”
“I want you to be happy with what we have instead of asking for more.” “I’m trying.” “Are you?”
Her throat moved and her gaze darted to the side. “Yes. I thought I could do this. I wanted to. For Emma. But it’s too hard.”
“This? What exactly is this?” His tone was sharper than he’d intended and she flinched.
Pressed against the door, she looked ready to bolt. He knew if he reached for her, if he moved toward her at all, she’d be gone. So he forced himself to wait.
“I think we made a mistake,” she finally said in a low voice. “It’s not working.”
“Too bad. Leaving me is not an option.”
Her eyes widened with her distress. “What?”
“You don’t get to run away this time. Our daughter needs both of us, so even if it’s hard, you’re not leaving.”
“I’d never leave Emma!”
“Neither would I. So I guess we’re at an impasse, aren’t we?”
“But I can’t do this! I can’t live this way!”
“You can’t live being pampered and adored by a husband who’s trying like hell to make his wife happy?”
“But you aren’t! Spending money on me and carting me around the world and pleasuring my body won’t make me happy.”
“Then what will?”
“A real marriage built on love. I want that. I want a family that loves each other, that shares things even when it hurts. I want what you aren’t willing to give me.”
“Why?”
“Because! This isn’t a marriage, Stephen, and I can’t keep pretending that it is. I can’t live as someone else’s obligation.”
“Damn it, Colette, this has nothing to do with obligation!”
“Then what is it about, huh? Because it sure isn’t about love. It’s not about closeness or emotional connection.”
“I told you. It’s about respect. And admiration. And shared goals. It’s about a marriage that will make Emma feel secure.”
“But you don’t respect me. How could you, when I settle for so little? You don’t love me and you never will. Whether you admit it or not, I know I trapped you into a marriage you never wanted in the first place, and I can’t keep pretending that I’m okay with it.”
“You didn’t trap me. I trapped you, remember?”
She shook her head, her eyes wide and haunted. “I can’t be anybody’s burden again, Stephen. I won’t.”
“You’re not a burden.”
“Yes. I am.” Hiking her trembling chin, she kept her gaze steady despite its sheen of tears. “You don’t want a real wife. You don’t want a real marriage. And you certainly don’t want me.”
“Right,” he said, his inability to make her see reason churning in his gut. “I don’t want you because every man in the world is your father. Because no one could possibly want you when he didn’t.”
The blood drained from her face at that, casting her freckles in sharp relief. “This has nothing to do with my father.”
“It has everything to do with your father, and you’re too stubborn to see it.” He raked his hands through his hair, frustration and anger coiling through him. “You’re stuck in that same hurting, scared place you were in when you were eight years old and