Rosalind Lowell stared at him blankly, completely still.
It wasn't until he kissed one of her tears that Alaric Davenport stopped. His deep eyes stared into her vacant ones as he asked in a low voice, "Why don't you fight back?"
His Adam's apple bobbed. Cupping her chin, he saw that her neck and face were already branded with his marks. His feelings were complicated.
Just moments ago, it was as if he had lost all reason, doing something like that.
"You said I'm your wife, Mrs. Davenport. You've given me so much. If this is what you want, then I should give it to you. It's only right." Her soft voice was barely a whisper.
Alaric's mood soured even further. 'So that's the only reason…'
Disappointment. Helplessness...
'After what I've done, she'll only hate me more.'
He rolled off her and stood up, straightening his clothes. With his back to her, he asked, "So you prefer them?"
Rosalind bit her lip and looked at him. 'How can I explain? My heart has already…'
