“Broke her wrist.”
Emma looked toward Elias.
“Nathaniel laughed.”
Not loudly.
“Just once.”
“Under his breath.”
“That was enough.”
“The next morning I packed.”
Elias’s face had become very still.
“Did he let you go?”
“No.”
“How?”
“He froze my household allowance.”
“Told people I was unstable.”
“Threatened to tell the court I had abandoned my duties.”
“I kept the account books.”
Emma smiled faintly.
“He forgot I had proof of every property transfer he had hidden from taxes.”
“He signed the divorce agreement three days later.”
Elias laughed.
The sound surprised both of them.
Emma smiled.
“What?”
“I like you.”
Her heart stumbled.
“You hardly know me.”
“I know enough to like you.”
“That is not the same as marrying me.”
“No.”
He stepped closer.
“Do you want me to stop saying things like that?”
Emma looked at him.
“No.”
Honest again.
Elias’s gaze dropped briefly to her mouth.
Then returned to her eyes.
Emma felt heat rise beneath her skin.
He did not move closer.
That restraint became its own touch.
Finally she said:
“You could kiss me.”
Elias’s breathing changed.
“You sure?”
“No.”
He almost smiled.
Emma whispered:
“Yes.”
He moved slowly.
One hand came toward her face.
Stopped an inch away.
She closed the distance herself.
His palm settled against her cheek.
Warm.
Rough.
He kissed her gently.
Emma had known kisses that demanded.
Kisses that claimed.
Kisses Nathaniel used in front of guests as proof of a marriage that felt empty in private.
Elias’s kiss asked.
When she leaned closer, it deepened.
Her hand pressed against his chest.
His other hand found her waist.
Not tentatively because of her body.
Not theatrically.
He simply held her.
Emma’s breath caught.
Elias immediately pulled back.
“Did I hurt you?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
She almost laughed.
“You touched me like you wanted to.”
His expression changed.
“I do.”
Emma stared.
He said it again.
“I want you.”
No shame.
No reassurance layered around it.
Her eyes burned.
“You don’t have to say that.”
“I know.”
“My size…”
“I have eyes.”
She looked away.
He turned her face back gently.
“I knew the number before I knew your voice.”
“I knew your body before I knew whether you’d laugh at my cooking.”
“I am not surprised.”
Emma whispered:
“Men have wanted me as a joke.”
“I’m not joking.”
“As curiosity.”
“No.”
“As something they could say they had tried.”
Elias’s eyes hardened.
“Then they were boys with cruel imaginations.”
He touched her cheek.
“I am standing here trying very hard not to kiss you again because I want you enough to be careful.”
Emma laughed through tears.
“That may be the strangest romantic sentence I’ve ever heard.”