She wanted to call him back to a place of bantering and stay in that world just a moment more, so she didn’t have to step into the present and the end of this.
This? What exactly did that even mean? He desired her. He spoke freely with her.
But he’d given no indication the passionate feelings she developed almost overnight were reciprocated.
Arran passed his sober, searching gaze along her face.
And the breaking of something fragile she had stolen for herself in the form of a lie with this man threatened to break her.
It had gone on too long.
They started at the same time.
“Lucy—”
“Arran,” Lucy began, her voice thick with tears and regret. “I need to say s-something.” Her teeth chattered, not with cold but the misery of what was to come. “T-to te—”
“Shh,” he whispered. The exquisitely crafted planes of his face contorted into a paroxysm of grief so great her heart broke for the hurt he suffered. “I owe you the greatest apology. You were not to blame for what transpired in the kitchens, Lucy. I knew what I was doing—”
“I did too, Arran,” she cried softly. Lucy slapped a hand against her chest. “I chose to embrace you. I wanted to be in your arms last night.”And always…“I knew what I was doing then, just as I’ve been fully aware of my decisions since coming here.”
Desire darkened his eyes, replaced too quick with anguished guilt.
I did this… This is all my fault…
The warm wash of her tears dampened her cheeks.
“Ahh, God, Lucy.” The laugh he let out, a short bark, laced with a like misery—but his suffering was for reasons far different than her own. “I cannot tell if you’re speaking to yourself as you do, or whether I’m following your thoughts now.”
Oh God, if he could, there’d be none of this tenderness. None of this compassion.
More tears fell. And she despised herself for letting them.
“Don’t do that,” he begged. “Please don’t.”
His anguish-filled voice only made Lucy cry harder.
On a guttural groan, he looped a single, strong arm about her body and drew her in. “Ah, God, Lucy, your tears are destroying me.” Arran pressed her close, while half his body remained turned from hers.
His were the efforts of a man fighting to be honorable.
She had done this to him.
She continued a deception that would only further break his heart.
This was no longer about her. It never had been.
Somehow, Lucy found a way to push herself free of his embrace.
Arran instantly stiffened. His proud shoulders drew back. His naval captain’s spine somehow went even more erect. “My apologies,” he said stiffly.
“I should not have—”
“You don’t know anything about me,” she blurted. “And…you were right when I arrived. I’m a stranger. And you were right to be wary of me.”
“Lucy—”
“S-stop.” The soft, trembling cry tore from her lips.
