“Okay,” she finally agreed.
I jumped out of the truck and rushed around to the other side before she even unbuckled her seatbelt. The look she gave me when I opened the door and helped her down clearly said that she thought I was nuts.
I took her hand and led her around the cabin toward the trees, walking slowly so she wouldn’t push herself too hard to keep up.
We didn’t speak, but she did leave her hand in mine, loosely gripping my fingers. I wanted to tighten my hold, to lace our fingers together, but I sensed that she would only withdraw if I tried to hold on too tightly.
When we reached the clearing where we’d practiced sparring and made love only a week ago, I stopped. Somehow, it seemed right.
I turned toward her. “How are you feeling?”
Her eyes flicked up to mine. “Better,” she answered honestly. “I’m still tired a lot and hungry all the time, but the pain is almost completely gone. Just a twinge every now and then if I move too quickly or stretch too far.”
I squeezed her hand gently. “I’m glad.” I hesitated before I asked, “Do you remember anything from when Finn and I found you?”
She shook her head, her eyes gaining a faraway look. “No. I don’t remember anything after I passed out.”
I sucked in a deep breath, my heart picking up speed in my chest. It seemed so much easier to say what I felt when I thought it would be my last chance.
Then I realized that this still might be. My mark was gone from Chloe’s neck, the scar healed. She could reject me and move on. It would be over.
My stomach felt hollow at the thought. I couldn’t lose her.
I cupped her cheeks in my hands and laid my lips on hers, a light, nearly reverent kiss. Loose tendrils of her hair tickled my face and neck as the breeze blew through them. I’d grown to crave the peaches and honey scent that emanated from her skin under the warmth of the sun.
Chloe’s hands came up to my wrists, holding me but not tightly. It was almost as if she felt the same fear I did—that the harder I tried to hold on, the faster she would slip through my fingers.
I lifted my mouth from hers and looked down at her face. Her eyes were still closed and her cheeks finally had some color in them. Slowly, her lashes lifted until our eyes met.
When she looked at me, all my fear vanished. This was right.
“I love you, Chloe,” I murmured, brushing my lips against hers once again.
Her eyes were dazed when I raised my head again, but they sharpened far quicker than I liked.
“What did you say?” she breathed, her hands gripping my wrists tighter.
“I love you, Chloe MacArthur, and you’re my mate.”
She swayed against me and, for just a moment, I thought it was going to be that simple.
Unfortunately, Chloe MacArthur was as unpredictable as I thought.
She straightened her spine, backed out of my grasp, and stared up at me. Her eyes were level and nearly accusatory. “Why are you saying this?”
“Because it’s true,” I replied.
She shook her head. “You’re confused.”
I took a step toward her and she retreated once more, keeping the distance between us the same. “No, I’m not, Chloe. For the first time in nearly two years, I’m seeing things clearly.” When I moved forward again, she repeated her withdrawal. “Why are you backing away from me?”
“Because I don’t want you to touch me right now,” she shot back.
Her words hurt at first until I looked at her hands. Chloe’s face might not give much away, but her hands were clenched in tight fists, the knuckles white, and tucked against her hips. She was distressed.
“Why don’t you want me to touch you, Chloe?” I asked softly. “Is it because you’ll want to touch me back?” I lunged quickly, taking her hand in mine, and flattened her palm against my chest. “It’s okay. I want you to touch. I’ll always want your hands on me.”
Her breathing grew rapid as her eyes stared at her palm against my sternum. “Don’t do this, Lachlan.”
