She shook her head helplessly. “I rarely trust anyone.”
The admission left her exposed in a way she had not been prepared for. Her body felt too raw, her emotions flayed open.
“I cannot stay,” she said suddenly, the decision crystallizing with terrifying clarity. “I will leave in the morning.”
“What?” his voice rose sharply.
“I will not put you at risk,” she continued, already turning toward the door as though movement might keep her from breaking entirely. “This was my mistake, and I will fix it.”
“Madeline, stop.”
She reached the door, her hand brushing the handle?—
—and his hand closed around her wrist.
The contact sent a jolt through her, heat flaring where his fingers wrapped around her skin. He pulled her back with a firm, unyielding strength that left no room for argument, and she found herself facing him once more, her breath stuttering at the sudden proximity.
“You are not leaving,” he said.
“You cannot protect me from this,” she whispered. “You do not understand what she is capable of.”
“I understand enough,” he replied, his voice low, intense. “And I will not allow you to face it alone.”
She shook her head, tears streaking down her cheeks. “I do not want to implicate you. Or Tessa. I will not be the reason harm comes to this house.”
“You are not a burden,” he said fiercely. “You are not something to be discarded the moment you become inconvenient.”
She tried to pull away, but his grip tightened, his other hand coming up to her waist, anchoring her in place. The closeness was overwhelming, his presence filling every space, every breath.
“You will stay,” he said. “Under my protection.”
“No,” she whispered, her resolve crumbling under the weight of him. “You cannot ask that of me.”
“I am not asking.”
She laughed softly, hysterically. “You think you can simply declare it so?”
“Yes.” The certainty in his voice stole what little strength she had left.
She lifted her gaze to his then and saw something there that made her heart seize painfully in her chest. Not pity. Not obligation. But something fierce and possessive and utterly unyielding.
“I will not lose you,” he said quietly.
Her breath caught. “Wilhelm…”
His thumb brushed against the inside of her wrist where her pulse beat frantically beneath his touch. The intimacy of the gesture sent heat pooling low in her body despite the chaos of her thoughts.
“You are mine,” he said, the words a vow and a claim all at once. “And no one will ever harm you again.”
The declaration left her reeling. Desire flared hot, threading through her fear, her longing, her exhaustion. She had wanted him for so long, had denied herself the truth of it with discipline born of survival.
Now, standing this close, his hands warm and steady against her trembling body, it was impossible to deny.
And then he kissed her.
The contact was urgent, fierce, his mouth claiming hers with a hunger that left her breathless, that stole the ground from beneath her feet. She gasped against his lips, shock giving way to a desperate, aching need that surged up to meet him.
Her hands rose of their own accord, clutching at his coat. Her fingers curled into the fabric.
