Chapter 2: Gentle Smile, Savage Night

***

I didn’t wake up until noon the next day.

The memories from last night were still vivid, my body aching in all the places he’d claimed. I sat up warily, rubbing my sore hips and muttering, "Julian Ashcroft, you absolute beast…"

A moment later, Julian came in, carrying a steaming bowl of chicken noodle soup.

He saw me awake and set the soup on the nightstand, then leaned over and kissed the tip of my nose.

“What were you just saying, Emmeline?”

He looked so gentle, so caring, that for a second I almost forgot everything I’d seen last night.

But now that I knew who he really was, I had no idea how to face him.

I dropped my gaze, fumbling for words. “Oh, just… wondering where you went just now.”

Julian’s lips curled into a small smile, and then he bent down and scooped me up into his arms.

“Didn’t you make some balm yesterday to sell on the east side of town? Are your legs still sore? If you’re feeling better, I’ll go with you later.”

After I ate, Julian grabbed the basket full of balm and carried it over his shoulder. We walked hand in hand down East Street, our fingers laced together.

“Want a candied apple, Emmeline?”

His voice was warm, almost teasing, close to my ear. I looked up and met Julian’s gaze—those deep blue eyes, always gentle when they landed on me.

I had to admit it—Julian was stupidly handsome, the kind that knocks words right out of you. Classic and almost untouchable, with an edge that set him apart.

But this man, this angel with a hint of danger, was always meant for someone else. I was just a footnote in his story.

My eyes burned, so I looked away, refusing to let him see how much it hurt.

“I don’t want anything sweet.”

The light in Julian’s eyes dimmed. His gaze clouded, and his grip tightened around my hand, like he was afraid I might disappear at any second.

By the time we walked home, dusk was settling in and our basket was nearly empty. On the way, Julian bought a roast chicken and insisted on feeding me piece by piece, right there on the sidewalk.

I felt a little helpless, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that Julian was acting different today—more intense, more desperate somehow.

Sure enough, after dinner, he practically dragged me to bed, his need for me raw and urgent.

In the year we’d been married, Julian had always been careful and gentle, especially when it came to making love. He’d never hurt me—not once.

But tonight, he didn’t care about my tears or my protests. He wanted everything, and he wanted it with a wild, frantic hunger that scared me.

It wasn’t until the moon was high and my voice was nearly gone that Julian finally let me go.