“Elizabeth.”
I froze at his voice, my traitorous body already warming at his call.
He ran across the street to get to me, rain dripping out of his dark hair. He didn’t have an umbrella or even a coat. All he wore was his expensive suit jacket, which I was sure was now ruined.
“Elizabeth,” he repeated as he closed the distance between us. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
He kissed me, sending glorious heat radiating through every nerve and making my knees go weak. It was everything I remembered in his touch and more. Anger managed to burn through the heat of his touch, igniting me in a different way. I pushed him away, suddenly hot with wrath.
“You didn’t call,” I spat out, wiping my hand across my mouth. My hood had fallen off during the kiss, and now my hair dripped with the cold rain.
“I needed to see you,” he replied. “I wanted to tell you in person.”
I crossed my arms, now angry, cold, and wet. My hands were damp now from pushing him, and the cold was biting. I had no idea how he was standing in the pouring rain and not shivering.
“Come here,” he said, stepping under the awning of the closest shop. It was the coffee place we’d met at accidentally the other day. Inside people waited in line for hot coffee. It was busy on this cold, wet night.
“What do you want?” I asked, joining him, but keeping my distance. It was nice not to be directly in the rain.
“This isn’t how I planned it.” He ran a hand through his dark hair, sending droplets of water flying.
I sighed with annoyance and stepped away to go back to the rain, but he caught my elbow and pulled me back under the awning.
“I know you aren’t wealthy, that you have no idea what it takes to be a part of my world,” he told me. “I know I could have anyone. Any supermodel, heiress, or actress. I could have women more beautiful and accomplished than you in a heartbeat.”
I just stared at him, unsure of why I was being insulted. Apparently, I wasn’t beautiful or accomplished.
He swallowed hard and set his shoulders. “But I don’t want them. I want you,” he said. It wasn’t soft or kind. It sounded more like he was giving me a job I didn’t really deserve. “I don’t know why, but I want you.”
“What?” I asked, pushing some wet hair out of my face. Inside the coffee shop, I could see a couple of patrons looking at the two crazy people talking outside in the rain. “What do you want me for?”
“I’m willing to take the risk that you may ju
st be after my money,” he continued. “My family will disapprove, but for the first time in my life, I don’t care.”
“I don’t understand,” I told him, completely lost.
He fixed his serious blue eyes on me. “I love you.”
If someone had told me the sky was made of lemon meringue pie, I would have believed them over what I just heard Mr. Darcy said.
“Is this a joke?” I asked him. “Are you serious?”
“Very serious,” he said softly. He took a step forward and put his hands on my shoulders, peering into my face with unjustified hope. “Please, say that you feel something for me, too.”
I pulled back from his touch. “Oh, I feel something, but it is very far from love.”
Confusion and something that might even be mistaken for hurt crossed his face, but I knew better than that. He had to be playing some sort of game with me.
“You honestly think that this was the way to tell me you love me?” I asked. I wasn’t cold anymore. I was livid.
“This wasn’t what I planned,” he said looking around at the rain. “This isn’t how I planned to tell you.”
“No, not the rain,” I corrected. “‘I can have anyone. Any supermodel, heiress, or actress. I could have women more beautiful and accomplished than you in a heartbeat,’” I repeated, mocking his accent. I felt like I was getting pretty good at it by now.
He opened his mouth but didn’t say anything.
“That’s not how you tell someone that you care about them,” I told him. My voice was raising without me meaning to, and people inside the coffee shop were now looking out at the two of us. I consciously took a breath to try and keep my cool. It wasn’t working very well. “That’s how you tell people that you don’t want them.”