An Unexpected Earl (Lords of the Armory #2) - Anna Harrington Page 0,43

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He moved his mouth away from hers to bury his face in her hair. He breathed in deep the delicious scent of her and drank in the softness and warmth of her body pressed against his. He could barely believe she was real. He slid his hands over her shoulders and down her back, needing to feel her to prove that she wasn’t a dream.

But she turned her head away when he leaned in to kiss her again. “You…have to stop.” Yet she belied her words by fisting his lapels in her hands as if she were afraid he’d do as she said and vanish like smoke.

He nuzzled his cheek against hers with a smile. “I have to stop?” The tip of his tongue darted out to delve into the corner of her mouth and capture the sweetness waiting there, and she bit back a soft mewling of longing. “I think you’re a willing party to it.”

“Pearce…”

At that plaintive whisper, he relented and shifted back, but he didn’t release her. He couldn’t. Her hands were still tangled in his jacket front, still keeping him with her. Besides, letting go of her at that moment would have killed him.

“Why stop?” He caressed his thumb entreatingly over her bottom lip. “We used to be quite fond of kissing each other.”

“A lifetime ago.” Yet she leaned into his touch, like a rose bending toward the sun. “That was all before…”

“Before what?”

“Everything,” she whispered, with so much desolation that he ached for her.

Wanting to comfort her, he leaned in to brush his lips in featherlight caresses against hers. For a moment, she capitulated, surrendering to the solace she found in him. She returned his kiss with the same need and longing, slipping her hand up his front, as if to encircle his neck and bring him down even closer—

Suddenly, she tore her mouth away, and the hand at his shoulder pushed hard to move him away. Then her other hand did the same. This time to keep him away.

“Amelia?” he murmured, confused. “What’s wrong?”

She turned away from his touch, her eyes squeezing shut. As if she couldn’t bear to look at him.

“You need to go,” she whispered, her eyelashes glistening wet with unshed tears.

The sight of her grief tore into him like a razor. “What’s the matter?” He cupped her face between his hands. But she refused to open her eyes and look at him, her nose and lips both turning dark pink as tears threatened. “Tell me.”

“Please—go. I can’t…” She shook her head between his hands, her shoulders sinking with distress. “It’s too much. I can’t…bear it.”

Slowly, he dropped his hands away, instinctively knowing not to touch her. “What can I do to help?”

“You can’t,” she rasped out, her voice bleak. When she opened her eyes, a single tear slipped free, sliding slowly down her cheek. “It’s too late.”

“It’s not. I’ll keep you safe, I promise.”

She pressed the back of her hand against her mouth like a shield, as if she were afraid he’d attempt to kiss her again. “It’s too late for that, too,” she murmured through her fingers.

He stared down at her, helpless to understand and give her the comfort she needed. Did she think he would purposefully hurt her? That he’d changed so much since they last knew each other? No. It was more than that, he could read it on her face—

It was betrayal.

“I told you,” he said quietly. “I didn’t receive your letters. You can’t blame me for that.”

“I don’t. That’s not—I don’t blame you,” she whispered, as if she knew her voice would crack with emotion if she dared speak any louder. “All those years, I thought about you…wondering how you were, where you were, if you missed me, if you were happy. I never forgot you.” Twelve years of anger and anguish overwhelmed her, and a wounded sound tore from the back of her throat. “You were my best friend. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Her words cut him to the quick, and he could barely breathe out, “So did I.”

“But things are different now,” she admitted, the words tearing from her. “We can’t go back into the past. Do you understand? I can’t.”

“I’m not asking for that.”

She whispered, her shoulders slumping, “Now who’s lying?”

Slowly, she slipped down from the table, stepped out of his arms, and walked away.

Knowing better than to stop her, he raked his empty hand through his hair, but the gesture did nothing to alleviate his mounting