Charles sipped his wine nonchalantly, watching Hannah bring the glass to her lips. Her lips looked red and soft. He swallowed hard. He hadn't previously considered Hannah a desirable partner; he'd deemed her a pushover, incapable of igniting his passion. He hadn't even imagined a woman like Hannah, so thoroughly shaped by upper-class education, would be interesting in bed. Yet, something about her appearance stirred him.
He downed the rest of his wine, suppressing his emotions. He looked at Hannah, who still held her glass untouched. His face darkened. He waited, unwilling to appear too eager.
After a long pause, Hannah set down her glass. "I'll have some water."
"Why, is something wrong?" Charles asked gently.
"No," Hannah shook her head. "I just don't want to drink."
"Not even one glass?"
"No," she refused flatly.
Charles's face fell. "You still don't want to forgive me."
Hannah smiled. "Why should I?"
"Didn't you say you and Oscar were close? And that you appreciated me? You're lying. You're still not over me. You're actually…" Charles exclaimed, reaching for her hand.
Hannah withdrew her hand. "I thank you for letting me find true love. I don't forgive you for cheating and ruining our relationship."
Embarrassed, Charles asked, "What can I do to make amends?"
"Stay away from me," Hannah said, each word deliberate.
Charles clenched his fists. "From now on, we have no contact."
"Hannah! We were in love, can't we even be friends?" Charles fumed.
"Couples can be friends if neither is to blame. You messed everything up; how can we be friends?"
"I told you, Jane set me up."
"You can say whatever you want now; Jane can't speak anymore."
"Hannah!" Charles was furious. He'd never imagined being silenced by Hannah, who had usually been so compliant. He glared at her. "I didn't want to hurt you, and I think we still have feelings for each other. But since you're so heartless, don't blame me for being rude!"
Hannah's eyes widened as Charles abruptly rose. She stood and walked away, but he pulled her back, pushing her against the French window and pinning her beneath him. She resisted, but her efforts were futile.
"Let me go!" she roared.
She'd expected him to plead, to flatter her, even to drug her. That's why she refused the wine. She never anticipated this violent confrontation. She'd underestimated his capacity for cruelty; she’d always thought he was merely adept at pretending. She struggled frantically.
Charles kissed her. Hannah gritted her teeth, barring his entry. He didn't linger, yet her lips instantly ignited his lust, a lust he'd never anticipated feeling for her. Her intransigence had sparked a crazed desire to conquer, a desire so intense it shocked him.
"Let go of me!" Hannah yelled as he broke the kiss.
"Let go of you? All my years of kindness were in vain?!" Charles spat, his face contorted.
"Charles, you bastard!" Hannah snapped. He wants to sleep with any woman he sees, she thought.
"Shut up!" Charles raged. He'd had countless women throw themselves at him; he'd never been rebuked like this.
He ripped open her clothes, sending a chill down her spine. She glared at him, at the man she wanted to kill. "Charles, did you enjoy forcing me?"
"It wasn't boring," he scoffed.
"Didn't you think I was cold and hard, like a corpse?!" she retorted, the words echoing a past insult he'd inflicted.
He was confused; he hadn't said those exact words, yet the sentiment was true.
"Don't you feel wronged?" she hissed. "Since you despised me so much, wasn't sleeping with me wronging you?"
Charles sneered, "Yeah, a pre-owned woman like you makes me feel wronged! But after all those enchanting women, I'm suddenly interested in your conservative, dull, uninteresting type." He kissed her neck.
Hannah felt nauseated, remembering their past encounters. Even then, he’d feigned gentility, a performance she'd foolishly mistaken for love. She would rather die than be violated by him.