He was a consummate actor; she knew that now. He had not fooled her completely—she took some pride in the fact that she’d known that he’d been hiding something—but he’d been good enough to make her think she could fall in love with him. And for all she knew, he was faking this now.

Maybe he didn’t want her. Maybe all he wanted was her compliance.

But she wasn’t sure that mattered. Because she wanted him. She wanted the touch of his lips and the soft brush of his breath on her skin. She wanted the moment. That sacred, suspended moment before they touched, when they only stared, wanting.

Needing.

Anticipation. It was almost better than a kiss. The air between them was heavy and expectant, warm and thick from the heat of their breaths.

Iris held herself still, waiting for him to gather her into his arms, to kiss her and make her forget, if only for a moment, that she was the world’s biggest fool.

But he didn’t. He was still as a statue, his dark eyes never leaving hers. He was going to make her say it, she realized. He would not kiss her until she granted him permission.

Until she admitted her desire.

“I can’t,” she whispered.

He did not say a word. He did not even move.

“I can’t,” she said again, nearly choking on the short sentence. “You have taken everything from me.”

“Not everything,” Richard reminded her.

“Oh, yes.” She nearly laughed at the irony. “You’ve left my innocence intact. Very kind of you.”

He stepped away. “Oh, for God’s sake, Iris, you know why—”

“Stop,” she cut in. “Just stop. Don’t you understand? I don’t want this conversation.”

And she didn’t. He would only try to explain himself, and she didn’t want to listen. He would tell her that he’d had no choice, that he was acting out of love for his sister. And maybe all that was true, but Iris was still so damned angry. He didn’t deserve her forgiveness. He didn’t deserve her understanding.

He had humiliated her. He didn’t get the opportunity to talk her out of her fury.

“It’s just a kiss,” he said softly, but he was not that naive. He had to know it was more than a kiss.

“You took my freedom,” she said, hating how her voice trembled with emotion. “You took my dignity. You will not take my self-respect.”

“You know that was not my intention. What can I do to make you understand?”