She gripped the handle of the poker so tightly her knuckles drained of blood, but she did not charge him.She backed away.She didn’t want to swing.Not at Temple.Not when she’d thought she’d found a home.No hands to swipe these tears away.
“Diana.”Temple did not back away, either.His eyes were ice as he made his careful way toward her.
“I stole, somehow, what does not belong to me.I should not exist,” she mumbled.“Perhaps it would be best if?—”
“No, Diana.”
She allowed him to snag her gaze, to keep it, and she tried to swallow the words that were trembling from between her lips, but they would not go down.“I am an abomination.”
He inched closer, and she held the poker higher, deadly intent vibrating along every muscle.Survival screaming in her bones.But he didn’t care.Either he did not believe she would hit him, or he knew she could not hurt him.Either way, he kept coming until he could touch her.
And she let him, entire body trembling and terrified, she let him.
One hand wrapped gently around her high wrist, lowering her arm.When her arm reached her side, her hand loosed of its own accord, and the poker dropped with athunkto the floor.His other hand settled beneath her chin, the lightest touch but brimming with warmth, feeling like safety.
“You are no abomination, Diana.You are a marvel.”
She searched his eyes, the lines of his face, for the lie.No intent to harm anywhere.No poisonous envy.No disgust.He wore, instead, wonderment in every feature.It lifted her chin higher through the pads of his fingers, coaxing her to possess the word he’d given her.
Marvel.
He would not hurt her.Of course he would not hurt her.What fear had she let control her?No more.
She collapsed against his chest, relief shaking her body, almost choking her.He gathered her up and lifted her like a babe, climbed onto the bed with her and nestled her in his lap.She cried there.Big gulping sobs and splashing tears that left her throat raw and his shirt wet.
“I could not tell you.”Her words barely understandable.“I could not.”
“Shh.”He stroked her hair away from her temple, rocked her side to side.
“He wants me dead.Everyone will want me dead.”
“Everyone can go to hell.Your cousin first.”
Somehow, she laughed through the tears, and the laughter made her cry harder, clutching at his chest and emptying her fear into his skin.
She wailed.
And he kissed the top of her head.
She screamed.
And he rubbed the length of her back.
She moaned the fear that lived deep inside her.
And he hugged her more tightly to him.
Until she quieted.Until she sniffled.Until she said, “I don’t want this.But I do not wish to die either.”Especially not now.Not with him wrapped around her like a shield against the sneering world.
“I’ll kill a thousand men before I let one of them touch you.”
And, God, it sounded like he meant it.Sounded like an unstained truth.
Wiping her nose, she pushed away from him, just a little, just enough to look up into his face.“You would not have married me had you known.”
Something sly sparked in his silver eyes.“I think I would have married you sooner.”
“You would not have turned me in.”It had started out as a question, but before she’d finished it, she’d known the answer.
