Page 27 of Obsession: The Unspoken Sin
“I have wanted you for longer than I can say. Longer than will ever be deemed respectable or appropriate or honorable.” All the words came tumbling from him, the secrets he’d kept from everyone, burying them so deep that he hid them even from himself. No longer.
“I told myself I had no right to you, Alice,” he said gutturally. “You are Exmoor’s sister,” he said. A sharp, pained laugh exploded from his tightly constricted lungs. “I mean, what kind of bastard yearns for his best friend’s younger sister?”
The very worst kind. I am the worst. And I don’t even give a shite about Exmoor. I care about all the times I haven’t been honest with Alice—especially now.
Alice’s fingertips lightly caressed his cheek and chin as she guided his face up to hers. “You…yearnfor me?” she breathed unsteadily.
He nodded shakily. “I have fought it for so long. That day you told me how you felt? I lied to you. And worse, I lied to myself. I pushed you away, and I have regretted it since. But I want you in my life, Alice. I always have. I am done fighting it.”
With a shattered cry, half-laugh, half-sob, Alice threw her arms around him and squeezed tight. His arms found their wayaround her, and he gripped her, holding her so close he had to make himself relax his hold so he didn’t hurt her.
“But Alice, there is something—”
“There’s something Denbigh has got to be telling you.”
Denbigh stiffened. This meeting felt all too familiar to the first one the young, cocksure, arrogant bastard had interrupted. This one, for all the similarities and sameness of the place, and the loathing in the other man’s tone and gaze, felt decidedly more ominous and permanent. His gaze moved to the man accompanying Dynevor—the Earl of Wakefield.
His stomach sank.No.
“What is it?” Alice asked tremulously, looking from her employer to Lord Wakefield’s unexpected presence and then back to Denbigh.
“Yes,” Dynevor said, confirming he’d spoken aloud.
Please don’t do this. Not here, not like this.Those pleas ran through his head. The look in Wakefield’s eyes told him everything he needed to know.
No, no, please.
“I didn’t like it when you were here, playing games with Alice,” the Earl of Dynevor said in low, warning tones. The young man narrowed his dangerous eyes. “But now you’ve involved the lady’s daughter, and that’s where I draw the bloody line.”
“What is he talking about, Laurence?” Alice asked tremulously, looking around the room.
“Alice.” Denbigh’s voice emerged as a strained croak.
But he couldn’t give her any more than that. God help him. He was going to lose her. And here he thought he’d never have her, only to find he’d been this close to allowing himself that which he’d always wanted—a future with her. With his duplicity, with his lack of being forthright and honest with her, he’d lose her. He didn’t doubt it.
His heart was breaking and splintering and making it impossible for him to stand upright, let alone function.
“I brought Wakefield here too because he has something he wants to share or confess.”
Denbigh got to his feet and stood absolutely stiff; his muscles strained so tight they felt on the verge of breaking.
Wakefield’s expression was strained, and the look in his eyes conveyed more of an apology than any words the other men spoke. Not that they were deserved or needed. He did wrong by not being up front and honest with Alice. These sins belonged to Denbigh.
“Tell her, Wakefield,” Dynevor demanded.
The Earl of Wakefield’s features grew strained, and when he began to speak, his voice emerged hesitantly. Reluctantly.
“Tell her!” Dynevor barked.
Denbigh closed his eyes. “I will,” he said, his voice thick. “If I may have a moment alone with Lady Ali—”
Dynevor snorted. “I don’t think so. You lost that opportunity.”
“Tell me what?” Alice’s voice came weak and distant to his own ears. When no one immediately answered her, she repeated herself in a thready, high-pitch. “Tell mewhat?”
Unfortunately, Dynevor spoke for him. “Has Denbigh here happened to mention that your running into him here was no coincidence?”
Denbigh’s eyes slid shut.I’m going to be ill.
