Hold Your Breath 02 - Unmasking the Marquess by K.J. Jackson

straight into her chest and began to smother the very breaths she took. She recoiled, gasping, her body trying to remain erect. Tears welled in her eyes. “But I thought…I thought it was…I thought you enjoyed it.”
    “I did, but it was nothing compared to what I can get at any street corner.”
    “No, no—I won’t accept this—you love me.”
    “I do nothing of the kind, my lady. I think it is time that you remove yourself from the study and begin preparations for your journey.”
    She leaned forward again, both hands gripping the desk, desperation making her movements jerky. Tears streamed down her face. “No, Killian, you cannot mean what you’re saying. You’re drunk, or something has happened, tell me—you are not yourself—”
    “I am more myself today than you have ever known of me, my lady. Now remove yourself from my sight.”
    Reanna sank to her knees, hands still wrapped on the smooth edge of the desk. Tears blurred her vision, dropping onto her chest and soaking into her muslin dress. The salty bitterness drowned her lips, but her voice still managed to be solid. “Killian, please…please, you cannot mean what you say.”
    His eyes followed her drop to the position before him without so much as a flinch. “I do mean what I say, and this pathetic display only embarrasses you. You will leave this room immediately.”
    “But Killian,” her voice cracked, “there must be something I could—”
    “As I said, there is nothing. Kindly remove yourself from this disgusting debacle.”
    Every cruel word he had hurled at her since she came into the study hit Reanna all at once. She doubled back from the pain in her stomach, her legs no longer supporting her kneeling position. Her arms gripped her stomach as she crumbled into a heap and began to sway, attempting to rock all the hurt out of her body. Silent sobs racked her body.
    Killian’s voice, if possible, managed an even icier level. “I will not repeat myself again. Remove yourself from this room.”
    The words sliced into Reanna, and finally, some last, very slim shred of dignity latched onto his words.
    Slowly, she rose from the wood floor, still unable to control the silent sobs. Without looking at the man who had just destroyed every piece of her, she turned and picked up her lead feet.
    In the long walk to the door of the study, she forced herself at every step to not turn around and plead, beg, at Killian’s feet for forgiveness for whatever she had done. She would have done just that, had she even the slightest shred of hope that her begging would work.
    She reached the door and paused.
    In a hard fought battle between love, and a pride she didn’t even know she had, she turned the knob and managed to walk out the door.
    ~~~
    She had been gone for hours.
    Left the house quietly.
    There was no more pleading, no crying.
    He had not meant it to go that badly, but it had, and he was no force to change it now. Gut rolling, he cringed at his own reaction—his own harshness.
    He hadn’t imagined she would fight it like she did. Aggie had said Reanna loved him, but he had never imagined it could produce a scene such as that. What the hell did he know about love? What the hell did he know about the consequences of it?
    The whole of it—her tears, her begging—had cornered him—caught him off-guard, and he had not known how to react.
    But he needed her gone. She couldn’t be in the same house as he. Not where he could see her. Touch her.
    No. He needed her far, far away. He could afford no softening. Not for what he needed to do.
    Plus, he reasoned, she would be better off without him. He would do nothing but bring her more heartache. And he wasn’t worth it.
    Killian leaned back in the chair he hadn’t moved from since the earlier scene.
    His plan had worked. He had never doubted that it would. Never doubted that he could get Reanna to marry him. And now, to complete the plan, all he needed was patience.
    Patience, and fortitude against