He nodded. “When I saw you looking at the woman who’d insulted you, I hurt with you. I felt pain.”
How could one respond? “And?”
“And I gambled you could make me feel more.”
She blushed, hot and full-bodied. And then she stood, even though he still held her hand. A fury that she’d never felt before coursed through her veins.
“My grief is not for sale, Your Grace. Even for an audience of one.”
Especially for an audience of one.
Pain sailed through him. Again. This time, followed by an inner demand.
Do something or she will leave.
In her presence, he became human. Flawed, yes, but real.
“I cannot buy your grief—” he rose to his feet, placing himself between Lady Stone and the door “—any more than I can buy you.”
“You can. You have. And you did.” She pointed at him in accusation. “And don’t you go throwing that free will rubbish in my direction.”
He lifted his brows. “You said your chest was tight?”
She frowned but nodded.
“Now mine is, as well.” Sensation was glorious. She was glorious. He smiled. “I believe, Lady Stone, I am frightened you will leave.”
“Then why are you smiling?”
“Because feeling is sublime.” He rose to his feet and gathered her into his arms. Feeling may be sublime, but Lady Stone was stiff with righteous fury. “Is your chest still tight?”
She blinked, startled. “No.”
Bless her, she could not lie.
“Does your heart still pound?”
Her expression shot daggers. “I will not say.”
Without taking his eyes from hers, he unlaced his robe and let it fall. She gasped. Ignoring the parts of him in full arousal, he placed her hand against his chest.
“Fear,” he said, “...and desire.”
She wet her lips. Progress. He drew her hand to his shoulder and threaded his arm around her waist, a cautious cradle. She remained stiff as a frightened fawn.
“Shh,” he whispered. “Shh.”
She took a deep breath and then her muscles lost their fight. She collapsed against his chest with a heartfelt sigh.
He, whom even his allies referred to as Hades, finally held his angel in his arms.
He and Bianci had come together—fucked, in common parlance. But this feeling? He would have pledged eternal devotion if she would have asked. Hehadpledged eternal devotion. And she hadn’t even had to ask. Whatever existed between them, he’d never known its like.
The longing welled deep. His pain—and hers—spun in the ether like woolen thread, thinning and twisting, binding them in knots even he could not untie.
Chapter Seven
Either they were swaying, or the room had started to rock. Her weight rested on her right foot, now, her left...but neither foot kept her aloft. Alicia wasn’t sure which sensation she should heed. She remained upright only because Ashbey held her against his chest as if she were his cherished bride.
