Aequitas by Hope Anika (best classic books of all time .txt) 📕

agreed. Nothing more. His only defense was that he cared for her, and that was not something she would want to hear.

Not yet.

“Goddamn you,” she whispered. “I trusted you.”

“I know,” he told her, meeting that dark, bruised gaze, remorse a painful throb within him. “I’m sorry.”

Honor only shook her head and turned to look back out into the dark of night. “You were right. She didn’t want saving.”

“Aye.” His heart constricted. “I heard.”

“She thinks I abandoned her.” Honor’s tone was bitter with disbelief. “But they tried to take me, too, that night. I fought, so they shot me instead. If I’d known what would happen to her…I would’ve let them take me.”

“It’s not your fault,” Cian said softly. “Not any of it.”

“It feels like my fault.”

He lifted the whiskey toward her. “Just a sip,” he ordered.

“It won’t help.”

“It will. A little.”

She scowled, but took the glass and tossed back its entire contents. Shuddered. “Nope. No better.”

Cian accepted the empty glass. “I didn’t mean all of it.”

“It’s over now,” she said. “Finally.”

“Nay,” he replied instantly. “You’re family. It will never be over.”

Honor growled at him. “She doesn’t want to know me.”

“That will change.”

She turned on him then, her hands fisted, tension a fine vibration moving through her. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t pretend. I’ve done enough of that already. She hates me.”

Cian set the glass aside. “She doesn’t.”

“You didn’t see how she looked at me.”

No, he hadn’t. But he didn’t need to. “Do you think she expected her long-lost sister to reappear tonight?” he asked quietly. “That she was in any way prepared to have her beliefs shattered by your truth?”

“She didn’t believe a word I said,” Honor argued. A strand of hair stuck to her cheek, where her tears had left a salty trail. Cian stepped closer, and his hands flexed as he fought the need to touch her. “She thinks we just...left her. But we didn’t. We wouldn’t have done that.”

Her voice was raw, her eyes dark with pain, and Cian couldn’t help himself. He cupped her face; her skin was hot against his palms. “I ken that, a rứnsearc. And so does she. You must give her time to digest this. To think on it. You expect too much.”

“That’s not fair.”

“But it’s true. You want to go back, but all you can do is go forward.”

She stared at him, and a tear slid down her cheek. “It fucking hurts.”

“Aye,” he said. Then he sat down in the large upholstered chair they stood beside and dragged her into his lap, easily subduing the growled protest she made. “I know.”

“Let go,” she rasped as tears spilled from her eyes. “I don’t want your comfort.”

“Perhaps I want yours,” he murmured, wiping away those tears with his thumbs.

“Liar,” she whispered.

“Once,” he acceded. “But never again.”

“Don’t,” she said sharply, and a sob broke from her. “Just don’t.”

“I promise,” he added solemnly.

“Stop it,” she hissed, crying now, squirming in his hold. “Let me go!”

“I canna.” He gathered her to him, cradled her in his arms. “I won’t.”

She trembled violently, so obviously fighting her tears that Cian pressed a hard, possessive kiss to her lips, making her start. “Let it out, a rứnsearc. Or it will poison you.”

For a moment, she just shook, so tense he was afraid she might snap. And then, like a dam bursting, she began to sob, great, shuddering cries that made his throat fill. He held her tight, stroking her back, murmuring into her hair. His shirt grew damp, and the sound of her heartbreak filled the room until he could hardly bear to listen. But he didn’t move, and when she finally quieted, she was limp in his arms, her face nestled against his heart, her hands clenched in his shirt.

“I hate you,” she whispered thickly.

Cian’s heart fell. “There’s no guarantees, lass. Only risk.”

“Fucking pain.”

“Aye, sometimes. But other times, there is the most glorious of pleasure.” She was round and lush against him, and beneath her weight, his body was stirring. It had no mind for her fury or her pain, or his own self-determination to be a gentleman. The press of her hip against his cock became a silent, powerful drumbeat in his blood.

One he tried valiantly to ignore.

“Pleasure,” she repeatedly bitterly. “What’s that?”

“Is that a challenge?” he murmured, knowing better. He swept her hair back from her cheeks, his thumb swiping the lush curve of her bottom lip before she could stop him.

“An impossibility,” she whispered.

“Now that was definitely a challenge,” he said and stroked the strong line of her jaw, the delicate arch of her throat, ignoring the growl she gave him.

“Dream on,” she told him. She pinned him with her dark gaze. “Why did you do this?”

“Do what?”

“Help me. Why did you help me?”

“Because you asked,” he told her honestly.

“That’s not all,” she said, watching him closely. “You wanted me.”

“Aye,” he said. “But that’s only part of it.”

Her hand lifted and tentatively cupped his jaw, and Cian closed his eyes at the feel of her soft palm against his skin.

“What’s all of it?” Her fingers found his lips, traced their shape. “Tell me. And don’t lie.”

Cian shuddered. He wanted to take her to the floor and show her.

But he was not an animal. And she was not prepared for what he wanted from her.

“Because we’re the same,” he told her roughly, his eyes opening to capture hers. “It’s more than want, lass. It’s nothing so tame as sex. Nothing that easy.”

“Then what?” Her hand stilled against him. “Love?”

The fear that flickered through her was at odds with what he heard in her voice, something trembling and uncertain and…hopeful. He stared down at her, the rush of his blood a low roar, his heart a jackhammer in his chest. Beneath her, he was hard as granite.

“Aye,” he replied with a sharp nod. “And all that comes with it.”

She froze in his arms, staring up at him. “What does that mean?”

In for a penny, in for a pound. He steeled himself. “Love, marriage, babies. ‘Til death do us part.”

She blinked. “Babies?”

His hands tightened on her. “Aye.”

“Plural?”

He laughed shortly. “Whatever we’re blessed with, lass. I’ll take what I can get.”

“You’re crazy,” she murmured. “We’re strangers.”

“Nay,” he denied. “We’re the same.”

“You keep saying that, but...” She shook her head. “I’m not like anyone.”

“Nay, you’re special. Like me.” He lifted a hand and trailed a finger down her cheek, through the damp path left by her tears. “We’ve the same heart, a rứnsearc. I’ve known that from the start. We’re kindred spirits, you and I.”

“That’s stupid,” she said, but she stared at him and her fingers slid up into his hair and rubbed his scalp in a manner that made his cock throb. “Romantic claptrap.”

He laughed again. “Perhaps. But no less true.”

“Do you really believe that?” she asked.

He met her gaze. “Aye, I do.”

“Crazy,” she repeated, but she sat up in his lap, making him hiss, and tugged his head down toward her.

It was all Cian could to resist.

“Nay,” he whispered. “Forgive me, first.”

Her gaze met his, glittering in the light. “But I don’t.”

“You will,” he told her, his voice harsh; the ache in his chest was enough to cleave him in two.

“Maybe,” she said. And then she took his mouth.

Cian froze as she pressed her lips carefully against his. A tentative, exploring touch, untutored and hesitant.

“Kiss me back,” she demanded against his mouth, and her tongue probed his upper lip. A deep, grating rasp rumbled in his chest.

“You’re hurting,” he muttered, unmoving. “I won’t take advantage.”

“Pollyanna,” she murmured and tugged at his bottom lip with her teeth. Her breath flowed into his mouth, heavy with whiskey, so tempting his resolve wavered.

“Nay, lass,” he said, the words like crushed glass in his throat. “You’ll regret