A Pound of Flesh (A Pound of Flesh #1)(132)

[page]Even though it broke her heart, Kat stepped back. She stood, watching Carter slowly morph back into the man she knew. The tightness of his jaw dissolved, along with the tension across his shoulders, but the sadness in his eyes remained.

“I didn’t know,” he muttered. “I didn’t know you knew him. That you—”

“He’s not important—”

“You had dinner with him.” Carter jutted out his chin, daring her to deny it.

Kat pressed her lips into a tight line. “There was a group of us. For my birthday. It wasn’t like a date or anything—”

“He drove you home,” Carter added. Kat dipped her chin in affirmation and Carter’s face scrunched as though suffering a raging headache. “You were alone with him.”

Kat bit her lip while her hands fisted at her waist. How stupid she had been to keep this from him. She’d cursed her family for not being truthful, and she’d done the exact same thing to the most important person in her life. She was no better than they were.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I only found out that you were related at my grandmother’s last week.”

He looked toward the ceiling. “Did anything happen?”

Kat exhaled. The sound was the only confirmation she gave.

“You kissed him?”

Her eyes met his briefly as she whispered a tiny “Yes.”

Carter’s head snapped back. He hit it hard against the large books behind him. “Shit.”

“Carter.” Kat took a tentative step forward. “Please, talk to me.”

“There’s nothin’ to talk about,” he retorted, glaring over her head.

“There’s plenty to talk about,” Kat said firmly. “You’re upset, and I want to make it right. You have to let me explain.”

“Explain what?” Carter snapped. “Explain that while I was in prison, wanting you more than I’ve wanted anything in my life, you were allowing my cousin to stick his filthy tongue down your throat?”

“Hey!” Kat took another step while pointing a finger in his face. “That isn’t fair. I didn’t know he was your cousin, and I didn’t know you wanted me! You treated me like a goddamn pariah every time I saw you. How the hell would I know?”

Carter avoided her stare and toed the floor petulantly.

Kat dropped her finger as his words sank into her heart … wanting you more than I’ve wanted anything … Had he wanted her that much even then? She moved closer and placed her hands timidly on his hips. “Carter.” She moved her hands to his shoulders. “Look at me.”

He ignored her. His hands had turned into fists so tight his knuckles were white. Kat’s hands continued moving to his neck, which was flushed with his temper, up to his sharp jaw, covered in the rough stubble that had marked her so wonderfully.

“Carter, look at me.” Kat pulled his face to hers. His eyes rested on her chin. “Please.”

He shifted once more, slouching so that Kat was no longer on her tiptoes. His eyes moved up her face slowly. He stared at her, not speaking. He eventually moved his hands to her waist, squeezing her once before closing his eyes.

“I hate that he’s touched you,” he whispered.

“He hasn’t.”

A mystified expression crossed his face. Kat rubbed her hand down his temple.

“No one has ever touched me like you.” She drew her nose across his chin, breathing in his rich scent. “No one has ever kissed me like you.”