She took her time scrubbing the sweat and grime from her skin and washing her hair. At last, she got out and slipped into a soft emerald nightgown that made her feel more like Lady Eden and less like the adventurer she’d tried to become.
When she was done, she went to Max’s bedchamber, sliding beneath his sheets and offering up a silent prayer that she’d somehow find the words to tell him how she felt.
But the sinfully soft bed was more than her exhausted body could resist. Within moments, she was sound asleep.
When Max returned to the suite a few hours after he’d left it, the sitting room was dark. He stared for a moment at Eden’s closed door, then sighed and went to the bathroom, running himself a bath and trying not to think about the fact that two tickets back to England were sitting in his jacket pocket.
He poured himself another drink before climbing into the tub, remembering those months before Eden had found him at The Smuggler’s Lantern, when he’d let himself get so lost in thekind of oblivion that could only be found in the bottom of a glass. The temptation to do so again was nearly overwhelming, but after two sips, he set it aside.
Not yet. He’d see her to the train tomorrow first, because he didn’t want her to see him like that. After that... He might spend the next month sloshed. He didn’t know how else he’d bear it.
Once he’d shaved and soaked all the grit and sand of the desert off him, he finally got out of the cooling water and wrapped himself in his robe. He passed through the opulent main chamber of their suite, the darkness broken only by the thin, silver light of the moon filtering through the high windows. He walked toward his own adjoining room, pausing when he noticed the door to his chamber was slightly ajar. It hadn’t been open when he’d left.
A sliver of panic, sharp and immediate, cut through his exhaustion. He shoved the door open, his hand going instinctively to the knife he wasn’t carrying.
The panic evaporated, replaced by a devastating, gut-wrenching tenderness.
Eden was asleep in his bed.
She was curled on her side, a small ridge beneath the crisp white sheet, the expensive hotel linen gathered around her shoulders. She looked utterly vulnerable, her hair a loose splash of crimson against the pillows, her face relaxed and free of the careful facade she’d tried to maintain during their journey back. He stood in the doorway, paralyzed, wondering what this meant.
She just wants to talk to you before she leaves,a cold voice whispered in his mind.Perhaps she just wants to say goodbye. Don’t read too much into it.
He pulled the door closed behind him but didn’t turn on the lamp for fear he’d wake her.
What a blessing, to be able to slip into bed beside her and hold her one last time. He walked to the side of the bed andreached out a hesitant hand, stopping just shy of her shoulder, and gently brushed a stray curl away from her cheek.
The touch was feather-light, but she instantly stirred, her eyelids fluttering open. Her eyes, glinting emerald in the gloom, focused on his face. She didn’t look startled, only relieved that he had returned.
“Max,” she breathed. She reached up, her hand finding his wrist. She tugged him toward her.
He sat heavily on the edge of the mattress, the springs protesting softly. “What are you doing here?”
Eden shifted, rolling onto her back, and lifted her arms, wrapping them around his neck, pulling him down until he had no choice but to stretch out beside her. His heart pounded in his chest as he tried to decide why she’d fallen asleep in his bed instead of her own after the awkward, stilted conversation they’d had earlier.
“I had to talk to you,” she whispered, holding his gaze. “I couldn’t face tomorrow knowing I hadn’t tried to fix the one thing that truly haunts me.”
“And this is how you fix it?” His voice was hoarse. “A clean break? A final night of passion before we admit this is impossible?” If that were what she was here for, he would take it. Of course, he would. But he couldn’t help the feeling of disappointment that surged within him. When he’d seen her here, he’d dared to hope... He didn’t even know what he’d hoped.
Eden’s grip tightened on his neck. “Impossible? No, Max. I don’t think it is.” Her eyes were bright and unwavering, even in the darkness. “The thing I regret? It’s that I never told you how much I loved you. I loved you then, and I love you still. Even more now than I did then. I have spent fifteen years trying to forget the feel of your hands, the sound of your laugh, and the simple, undeniable fact that no other man has ever made me feel the way you do.”
The confession hung in the air, vast and terrifying. It was the absolute opposite of the polite, regretful farewell he had braced himself for. Max’s heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic, trapped thing. He leaned back, pushing his hands through his hair.
“Don’t,” he ground out, turning his gaze away from her devastating sincerity. “Eden, you can’t. We had our moment. You can’t tell me this now, not when you’re walking away from me once again.”
“But that’s why I have to!” she insisted, sitting up and cupping his cheek, forcing him to face her. “I don’t want to walk away from you. I never did. But I need you to give me a reason to stay.”
The last wall of his discipline crumbled. He seized her, his hands gripping her tightly, and kissed her not with passion, but with the sudden, violent release of everything he had held back all these years.
When the breathless, lingering kiss finally broke, Eden rested her head on his chest. “Max, when you left, I thought my life was over. When I found you again, I was so afraid to let you in for fear of losing you once more. But with every moment we spent together, I couldn’t help but fall even harder. Tell me I wasn’t wrong to do so.”
Max ran a slow, possessive hand over her silk-covered back. He closed his eyes, savoring the feeling of completeness. He knew what she was asking for. He knew she wanted him to admit he loved her, too. And he did. God help him, he loved her so much.
“It would never work,” he said instead, the words tasting bitter.
“Why?” She swallowed hard, the words catching. “Is it because you don’t want to go back to England? Because you don’t want to give up your life of adventure?”
The moonlight illuminated the sudden, profound fear in her eyes. It was a fear far deeper than any danger the desert could present. He couldn’t bear it. His pride and fear be damned. He couldn’t be any less honest with her than she’d been with him.
