As the Devil Dares (Capturing the Carlisles #3)(69)
If he would give up the partnership and choose her.
Instead, he dropped his hand away and shifted back just far enough to stare down into her face. Just far enough that he was no longer touching her, and the sudden absence of his body against hers left her feeling cold and inexplicably alone, even though he stood mere inches away. The small space between them gaped as wide as a chasm.
He asked quietly, “Did you accept?”
Rejection pierced her. The heat he’d flamed inside her only moments before now turned as cold as the wintry night around them. But even as she blinked hard to clear away the sudden stinging in her eyes, she knew she was a fool to hope for any other reaction. Even if a tiger could change its stripes, it would still be a beast.
With her foolish heart breaking, her pride got the best of her. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” she whispered, knowing her voice would break if she spoke any louder. Thank God for the shadows that hid any traces of anguish visible on her face and how much his indifference pained her. How foolish she’d been to think she might be special to him! “Then you’d get the partnership so easily.”
“This isn’t about business.” He reached up to rub a stray tendril of her hair between his thumb and forefinger. “I want you to be happy with whomever you decide to marry.” Although, from the way he said that, he didn’t seem pleased at all at the idea. After a pause, he admitted, “I know you, Mariah, and you’d never be happy with a man like Whitby.”
She swallowed hard as he trailed his fingers down her throat, as if he couldn’t keep himself from touching her. He was far less dangerous when he was only her enemy. “You don’t know me.”
“So much better than you think.” He leaned closer, so close that the warmth of his lips tickled hers. “You need a husband who loves you, who challenges you. One who brings out the passion in you.”
Her heart skipped. She very much wanted a husband who would give her all of that. And not just the intimate pleasures he’d so rakishly insinuated, but quieter moments born of laughter and teasing, challenging conversations, support and advice…a shared empathy over losing a parent. And when she thought of children and how caring and kind Robert was with Polly, how much love and devotion he showed to his niece and nephew—
She wanted those things with him.
The realization tore through her so unexpectedly that it ripped her breath away.
God help her, she wanted a life with Robert Carlisle, the most impossible man in the world for her. She shook at all that implied, trembling so violently that goose bumps dotted her skin, and in her shock, she could do nothing more than stare at him, wide-eyed and lips parted, and somehow remember to breathe.
All she’d wanted her entire life was to work for Winslow Shipping. Yet somehow during the past few weeks that dream had changed, and now she wanted more than simply a role within the company. She wanted the company and Robert, wanted both a home with him and a place at her father’s side. Dear heavens, she wanted it all.
Instead of filling her with happiness, that thought made tears sting at her eyes and nose, and her throat tightened with the threat of sobs. She pressed her clenched fist hard against her chest to try to ease the pain. But every breath burned in her lungs, every beat of her heart was excruciating—
Because that life would never be hers. Because Robert didn’t want her.
He wanted Winslow Shipping.
Misunderstanding her silence as loyalty to Whitby, he demanded quietly, “Does he challenge you intellectually or make you feel safe when you’re with him? Does he make you laugh with abandon and smile until your face aches?”
“None of that matters,” she lied, blinking rapidly, her voice a hoarse rasp. All this time she’d been fighting against him, when he now stood in front of her as the only man she wanted for her husband. The only man capable of bringing her all the joys and pleasures he’d listed.
“More than you realize.” He stepped closer and made her yearn for what she could never have—his affections. “Do you find yourself wanting to run to him to share something amusing? Is he the man you think of when you’re upset and need to be comforted?”
You! I think of you. But if he discovered how she truly felt, she would never live down the humiliation. So she forced out, “Yes!”
“You’re lying.” Another step closer, this one so close that she could feel the heat of him radiating down her front, and she longed to take a single step forward to place herself into his arms. “I know for certain that he doesn’t make you crave his touch.” His voice grew husky as he lowered his mouth to her ear, his warm breath tickling over her skin so deliciously that she shivered. “That it’s not him you dream of at night making you cry out in passion.”
“None of that matters.” Her hands clenched into fists at her side to keep herself from reaching for him. “Whitby is a kind and generous man. Unlike you,” she accused unfairly, yet wanting desperately to make him angry. When they were furious at each other, she didn’t long to be in his embrace, didn’t crave his mouth and hands on her, didn’t yearn to hear words of love fall from his lips. “You think you have a right to possess anything you want.”
His eyes flared with a predacious heat that made her shudder “Yes.” He closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around her waist and tugging her hard against him. His head lowered so close to hers that she felt each word caress over her lips when he murmured, “And what I want is you.”