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“How do you feel?” she asked.
Blake looked back at her. He could see her more clearly for the candlelight. Her face looked troubled, or perhaps she was just weary. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and the surrounding skin looked puffy. She’d cried upon his return then. Had she missed him as much as he’d missed her?
She was still beautiful. Too beautiful to be real. He couldn’t believe she was truly there beside him. Fourteen bloody months without her touch. He needed to touch her.
Blake extended his hand and took her fingers in his. Her hand was cool to his touch and soft. She didn’t pull away; she didn’t disappear into the void. She was real.
He ran his fingers along her knuckles, then tugged on her hand until she moved closer to him. He leaned forward and closer still until their breaths mingled and her lips were just a hairsbreadth away. Time froze, and everything around them disappeared as he stared into her eyes. Her beautiful eyes, the color of the sea after the storm, were so dear and… filled with tears.
Were those tears of happiness?
Annalise closed her eyes and shook her head as if in answer. One fat tear streaked across her cheek. She swallowed and moved out of his reach, taking her heat, her scent, with her.
No!Blake thought he yelled the word out loud.Don’t go. Don’t leave me. His panicked gaze roamed over Annalise’s features while she composed herself and wiped at her eyes.
And that’s when it dawned on him.
She wasn’t happy to see him. These weren’t tears of joy in her eyes. She was grieving for the betrothal that would never be. The thought sparked an angry chord in his heart. He fisted his hands by his sides and took a deep breath, calming his rioting thoughts.
“You don’t seem happy to see me,” he observed.
Annalise raised her troubled eyes to his. “Do not be absurd, Blake. We all thought you were dead. And yet… Where have you been?”
Blake noticed that she hadn’t answered the question. “Do you love him?” he asked perhaps too sharply because her eyes widened in shock.
“Do I love him?” A beat of silence.
“Yes, Kensington. Your betrothed. Do you love him?”
“Is that the only thing you could think to ask me? After all this time?”
“No, not the only thing, but the first thing. You were going to marry him.”
“You disappeared for months. I thought you dead!” she said, her voice breaking.
“It didn’t take you long to replace me,” he answered, all his bitterness seeping through his tone. “And you didn’t answer any of my questions.”
Annalise stared at him with wide-eyed disbelief, her mouth slack. She took a couple of breaths to calm herself before she spoke. “I don’t want to argue, Blake. You’ve just returned. And if it puts your mind at ease… Then, no. I do not love him.”
Blake nodded. He didn’t want to argue either. He was too tired to argue. But he was irritated that she maintained a distance between them. She spoke to him calmly and politely. Not a distressed widow, happy to see her wayward husband, not a woman reunited with the man she loved. She was also not his bright-eyed and open Annalise. Not the way he remembered her. She was too reserved, subdued. What had happened to her?
Blake reached for her again, wanting to touch her skin, to feel her warmth beneath his fingers, to wipe that mask of sadness from her face, but she drew away from his touch.
He curled his fingers, closing on air, and returned his hand to his side, trying to control his temper. Fourteen bloody months without her touch. Why wouldn’t she let him touch her now? Perhaps itwasa dream—a nightmare. One where she was within his reach and yet ever unattainable.
“Where have you been? What happened to you?” Annalise asked quietly, her gaze running along his body.
Blake closed his eyes as he thought of the nights he’d spent in captivity, tortured. About the months on a slave ship, about the depravities he’d witnessed. Cold sweat broke out on his forehead, and he shook his head. He didn’t want those memories to assail him. Not now. Perhaps, not ever. He couldn’t fathom what exactly he could tell his innocent wife about what had befallen him either. He cleared his throat. “What I went through is not for a lady’s ears.”
“I am your wife.”
“And that’s one more reason you shouldn’t know.”
She clearly misunderstood his meaning because she reared back before rising from the chair. “If you don’t have anything you wish to discuss with me, my lord, then I shall leave you to rest.”
My lord. The words were like a blow to his abdomen. She had never called him that. Not since the night they met.
“Annalise,” he breathed.
She paused, halfway to the door. “I am glad you are back, and I am truly happy to see you alive… Please, call for me if you need anything.” With these words, she shuffled out of the room and closed the door gently behind her.
Blake stared unblinking at the door. Not exactly the joyous reunion of lovers he’d imagined a million times in his head.Where the devil did it all go wrong?
