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He should not feel sorry for her at all, given the fact that she was the one who had gotten them into this position in the first place.
She was the one who caused this, and if she didn’t like the end result, that was her problem.
But he couldn’t overlook the fact that she was softer than he was. That for her, marriage was never intended to be a cynical meeting of people who wanted to firm up business deals.
No, for Minerva it was never supposed to be that at all.
That she had gotten herself into this mess, and the fact that he had twisted it to suit him as well, wasn’t something he was going to waste time feeling guilty about. He didn’t waste time feeling guilty in general. It was a fruitless exercise. Just like wishing that a pauper had been born a prince.
Or that a street urchin from Rome had been born a King.
It did nothing to solve one’s problems.
For him the vows were easy. But she hesitated over each promise she made, possibly because she was afraid of what would happen when she didn’t keep them.
It hadn’t been nice of him to make fun of her about not being able to divorce.
He had done a great many things the church wouldn’t approve of. He was hardly going to start worrying over much about his eternal soul now.
At the end he could go to confession, take his penance and spend the last bit of his life atoning.
He was far too busy to atone now.
But, the question of the permanence of the marriage was a tricky one considering that it would impact his portion of ownership with King Corporation. He had a feeling that Robert King would take an even dimmer view of Dante divorcing his daughter than he did to Dante marrying her in the first place.
That was a considerable issue.
Though, she did have a point. If when it was all said and done, they were able to explain everything, then Dante would possibly be considered a hero when she told the tale. Something he wouldn’t have asked for, but a possibility.
It wasn’t as if he wanted to stay married to Minerva forever.
When it was finished, it was time for them to kiss again, and she shrunk away from him.
One thing was certain: he could not stay married to a woman who shrunk away from his touch.
He wrapped his arms around her and she gasped slightly.
He didn’t give her time to react. Because if he did, he feared that she was going to cause difficulty.
He crashed his lips down onto hers. Swallowing her gasp and parting her lips with his tongue.
He didn’t know why, but he felt compelled to affect her. Perhaps because she had affected him, and it didn’t seem right that she’d had nothing but a negative response to him. An unreadable response.
A nonresponse.
He had a kick in his gut the moment he related that desire to instigate a response from her with the way that she had followed him around when she was a young girl.
The way that she had always been trying to gain a response from him.
It was petty. And it was childish.
But he allowed his tongue to delve between her lips anyway.
And she tasted... Like sunshine. Spring. Something that was indefinably Minerva.
Still, she was frozen beneath him. Her hands clutched at his shoulders, but they were motionless. Not impassioned in any way.
And when they parted, it was like yet another veil had been ripped from his eyes.
