‘It happened fast.’ A harsh, arid laugh punched out of him. ‘The irony was that she was putting on the bullet-proof vest I insisted she wear when the first shot came at us.’
Lotte’s gaze darted to his shoulder. To the puckered mark she’d suspected was a bullet wound but had hesitated to ask about.
‘It went through me and hit her,’ he answered her silent question. Then eyes as turbulent as a lightning storm met hers. ‘She knew instantly that it was fatal, and she didn’t waste time. She wanted to spell out her wishes for you before she…’
‘Wh-what did she say?’ she whispered.
Eyes gone haggard lingered on her, but Lotte suspected he wasn’t really seeing her. That he was firmly in the past with a ghost that very much ruled his present.
‘She regretted she wouldn’t be around to see you grow up. Regretted that she hadn’t spent more time with you. But above all she wanted to ensure you were taken care of. She requested I be your guardian, and I vowed to honour it.’
Her head bowed at the finality of it all, hot tears spilling down her cheeks. Her breath hiccupped when she felt the firm grasp of his hand on her shoulder. ‘I wish I’d known her better too. Then maybe she would’ve realised something.’ The words were barely audible, but he heard them.
His hand slid to her chin, raising it so she met his eyes. ‘What?’
‘That I may not have known her as well as I wanted but she was my hero. And that while I appreciate her making you promise, I would’ve been strong enough to survive without it.’
His grip tightened infinitesimally, his eyes narrowing. ‘Does it really chafe that much to have me in your corner,litla?’ he rumbled, a trace of something that sounded like mild upset in his voice.
She swallowed, unwilling to admit what she truly felt. That she wanted so much more than for him to see her as his weak, helplesslitla. But as much as she tried to keep the emotion suppressed, it bubbled free. ‘Not if it means you seeing me as you do.’
The words ricocheted around the room, both of them breathing hard as their gazes pierced into one another.
‘I think the last twenty-four hours has proven conclusively that that is not the case.’
Despite her face flaming at the reminder of their incandescent lust, she kept his gaze. ‘Has it?’ she challenged softly. ‘What changes when we leave here?’ she asked boldly.
His eyes continued to drill holes in her even as his expression shuttered. As his solemn stillness slid back into place. ‘Lotte…’
‘Exactly,’ she echoed softly, then pulled back. That he let her go to prowl back to the window said everything she wanted to know. Or perhaps, didn’t.
She rose, bunching her fingers into fists when they twitched. ‘Thank you for telling me. I know it wasn’t easy for you.’
He didn’t turn around or acknowledge the words. But his shoulders moved as he inhaled. Exhaled.
She hated the emotions that had nothing do with her sister or the memories she’d unearthed storming within her.
Snatching the camera, she walked calmly up the stairs, absolutely not admitting she was fleeing the horrific realisation that her emotions were very much on the line where Valenti Domene was concerned. And if anything, she was getting more entrenched in a place she didn’t want to be.
CHAPTER NINE
Therewasareason Valenti much preferred to live a life free of excessive emotion. A reason the grounding routine of unwavering duty to family and the Cartana throne was all he accommodated these days.
His brothers knew and accepted—mostly without complaint—the tight boundaries of what affection he could express. The crown gratefully accepted his allegiance to serve and protect with everything he had.
No one expected more from him and didn’t dare to ask because what he’d provided far exceeded anyone’s highest level of excellence.
So sitting in his office, feeling like he was wearing his every nerve inside out while his usually sedated heart beat overtime was highly inconvenient and most infuriating.
For the life of him, Valenti couldn’t find the off switch and with each moment that passed without locating it, his senses roared his distress until he wanted to flip his desk upside down just to experience something other than the chaos rioting inside him.
He blamed her. He blamed himself.
He invited this…thisfiasco. Welcomed it with open arms when usually a cold, hard no had seen any curiosity killed dead, and those who dared broach it seen off with their tail between their legs. Hell, even his father and brothers had only received an abbreviated version just the once and never since.
Hours had passed since she thanked him for exposing his greatest regret and failure to daylight and scrutiny. Since sheshed tears then told him she wished he hadn’t bothered to look out for her. Since she’d retreated upstairs.
Valenti expected she would regroup soon enough to lay blame where it rightly deserved to be. At his feet.
