Leaning over him, Charlie gave his wide shoulders a shake. His lashes flew up, and the look in his eyes cinched her throat. Anguish—so dark that his pupils pushed out his irises, not a speck of bronze present.
For an instant, he stared at her, unseeing.
Then she saw his espionage skills kicking in. Sitting up against the headboard, he swept his gaze over her bedchamber, assessing his environment. She guessed he didn’t spot any danger in her shell-pink boudoir accented with ivory and gilt. By the time his eyes returned to her face, he had locked away whatever demon had been stalking him whilst he slept. His mouth even took on a faint curve as he regarded the ivory satin bedsheets and pillows in shades of blush and coral.
“I feel like I woke up inside an oyster,” he muttered.
“Are we really going to discuss my choices in decoration now?” Wrapping the bedsheet around herself, she drew her brows together. “You were having a nightmare. It was so intense that I couldn’t wake you.”
“It was just a dream.”
She was not fooled by his offhandedness. “You are still sweating. Still trembling.” She placed a hand on the quivering bulge of his biceps. “Do you wish to talk about it?”
“I don’t remember. The dream, I mean.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “It was nothing, Lottie.”
“I understand, you know,” she said quietly. “I’ve seen things, too. Experienced things in my line of work that don’t go away just because it is time for sleep. In fact, the quiet and dark of night seems to bring out the worst of the memories. I think it is the nature of what we do, and I am convinced that the only way to battle such demons is by sharing them. I’ve said to my Angels what I am saying to you now, Sebastian: don’t go at it alone. Don’t keep it inside. Monsters thrive in darkness, but they fear the light.”
He appeared to take in her words. “I appreciate your counsel. But there are things that cannot be undone, and talking about it changes nothing.”
“Have you tried?” she asked pointedly.
He clenched his jaw, saying nothing. And she couldn’t let it stand.
“You asked me last night to give you another chance.”
“So I did.” His tone was wary. “What does it have to do with me having a nightmare?”
“Secrets,” she said succinctly. “They were the biggest problem in our marriage. Even before you left, we fought constantly. I will take responsibility for my jealousy and temper, for assuming you were having an affair when you were not. You, however, bear some responsibility too.”
“Not some, Lottie.Allof it—all the fault is mine,” he said with savage conviction.
“You are doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“Taking the blame. Acting as if you alone carry the weight of all mistakes.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Last night you said you don’t deserve to get what you want, and I want to understand why you would think such a thing.”
She saw she hit a nerve. His chest rose and fell on shallow waves, and his eyes were tempest-tossed.
“I am not the man you think I am,” he said finally.
She furrowed her brow. “Then who are you?”
“I…I cannot be Sebastian Courtenay any longer.”
He clasped her bare shoulders as if to keep her attention when wild horses couldn’t drag it away. Emotion whirled around them like a dust storm.
“When I staged my death, I knew there would be no going back. I killed Fayne to protect you, but also to protect the work I was doing. I made enemies, and if I were suddenly to come back from the dead…”
“You would be at risk,” she said slowly. “But that was twelve years ago. Surely you would be safe now?”
“Not until the First Flame is vanquished,” he said resolutely. “I also gave my superior my word that I would not come back as Fayne. And I must honor that vow.”
“I understand your professional obligation. But what about the vow you made to me?” Her voice quavered. “You asked for a second chance, and now you are telling me you cannot be the man I married?”
“I cannot be the Marquess of Fayne. But I willalwaysbe your husband, Lottie.”
“That doesn’t even make sense!” She threw up her hands. “If you’re not Fayne, then who will you be?”
