Page 125 of Pride: The Rogue
Latimer drew back.
He shook his head, but it continued to spin.I couldn’t have said that…
But he had.
I just…didn’t realize how bloody wrong I’d been.
Something primal raged within—feelings that weren’t lust but somehow even more omnipotent.
“Back at the St. George, you and I were nothing,” Livian quietly repeated, and he wanted to kiss her senseless to keep her from again uttering that godforsaken and hellbent wrong phrase.
She flashed him a sad smile. “And here, Lachlan?” Livian waved a graceful, palm around the gilded music room. “At Her Grace’s house, we arelessthan nothing.”
We are less than nothing?
As she’d so accurately pointed out, he himself had been the first to speak those words. They’d been a throwaway reminder for the both of them, that after they parted ways, they’d cease to be.
I’m losing her.
Losing her?
That would mean Livian Lovelace belonged to him in some way. She didn’t.
Panic grew.
“We never were,” he growled, not realizing he’d spoken aloud words he’d only intended for himself.
“Iknowthat, Lachlan,” she said, achingly. “That is what I’m…”
He swung his gaze to Livian’s and her words trailed off.
He wasn’t capable of being hurt or wounded, and yet whatever this tearing in his chest felt a good deal like what heimaginedit would feel like. Latimer fought to slog his way from this quagmire and reached for anger to pull himself out.
“What’s this about?” he demanded.
“I…what are you…?”
“Throwing my words in my face,” he said sharply.
“I’m not throwing them in your face, Lachlan,” she implored. “You were clear with me from the start and have remained so. I’m grateful for that honesty. I’ve always known exactly what our relationship is and was, just as I’ve known all along the only thing that matters to you is wealth, power, and revenge.”
“All that matters to me is…?” Latimer released a malignant, scornful laugh. “Here you are, all morally affronted about me marrying for business reasons when you not only allowed theDuchess of Argyll to put a dowry on you but pick your husband out for you.”
Livian paled and drew back.
“What?” she asked weakly. “I didn’t…” She shook her head.
“You didn’t what?” he lashed out. “Ask for it? Want it? Either way, it didn’t keep you from taking what you desired—a rich, lordly husband whose household you can watch over, for the steep price of your dignity and body.” Latimer raked a scathing glance over her person. “And for this reason, we are no different, so do stop pretending as if we are, Livian.”
His harsh, lengthy admonishment left a heavy silence.
Livian finally found her voice and finished her earlier sentence as though he’d never interrupted.
“Know.” Shock and shame transformed her glorious features into a sad mask. “I didn’t know Her Grace fixed a dowry on me.”
Livian’s humble and truthful confession knocked the wind out of Latimer’s sails.
“You didn’t know,” he repeated, carefully.
