“Yes—the man who served as my testamentary guardian. And, before you suggest that he will protest. I have already told him that I intend to marry you, and I intend to claim our child. That is, if you love me.”
“Ourchild?”
“In my heart, already, and for the world—she will be nothing less.”
Ah, Godric.He’d laid before her almost everything she wanted. But she couldn’t trust him with her life, with Annis. Not yet.
“I brought you up here to show you my greatest pain...even though you’ve never trusted me with your own. How can I tell you I love you...how can I be sure you love me...until you share your own secrets with me?”
ChapterFourteen
Hurtheven stared down at the soft fawn leather exquisitely fitted around Hera’s fingers. She hadn’t worn gloves like this before. They were part of the life she’d created without him. She didn’t need him any longer.
And yet, she’d asked him to accompany her here.
He hadn’t expected her to invite him into the heart of her pain.
He could see the smallness of the world she’d had to live in. The lack of hope. In this room, she’d had nowhere to turn and nothing that could save her but the strength within her own mind.
Hedidunderstand, but he could see her doubt. If he didn’t find a way to show her, he might lose her. This was a pivotal moment. So why were his eyes fixed to her hand?
He raised his gaze to hers.
In shock, he realized that this descent into hades was not about finding a way for her to face her worst pain but was, rather, meeting her challenge to revisit his own. She knew what he hid. Somehow, she knew. But she needed him to tell her. She needed him to explain.
He’d wanted to share the nightmare with her before but how could he? The memory wassound—not words. Squealing wheels. Endless rain. Helplessness beyond expression of any kind.
A noise came from his throat. An odd sort of squeak that made him shudder.
Breathe.
What existed between them, what bound them together was love, and love wasn’t softness and light and beauty. Love was risk and vulnerability. Everything could change in a moment.
In a flash.
He’d seen life itself snuffed for the first time in a coach, but many times since. To keep others safe was his chosen calling. And to do so, he’d thought he had to keep this particular memory boxed.
But to allow himself to be loved was to resurrect the part of the little boy that had died that night in the carriage. To resurrect the part of himself that had shrunk to near nothing because of that boy’s raw terror.
“You asked me to tell you something even my closest friends don’t know.”
“I did,” she answered slowly.
“As lovers weshouldshare...” His voice cracked. He cleared his throat. “What I mean is, your inclination to ask was a natural one. My refusal was cowardice.”
“You are anything but a coward,” she whispered.
A carriage wheel squeaked. Inside the suffocating room it was raining. And dark. And cold. He swallowed through a throat raw from yelling.
“Godric”—her hand was warm against his neck—“I’ve seen the carriage.”
“How?”
“The children—it doesn’t matter. But I’ve seen it, do you understand? You don’t have to explain.”
“I can’t,” his voice cracked. “Not because I don’t trust you. Not because I don’t want to explain. Ican’tbecause I don’t remember. Not in words or even in pictures. We were jostling along. My parents were laughing. And then...nothing...”
She lifted herself to her toes and touched her forehead to his.
