“I—I told you?—”
“Monsters. Umm. It’s amazing, Skylar. I seem to be able to force almost anything from you—except the truth.”
“You don’t want to believe the truth.”
“Want to tell me about the dream?”
“I told you?—”
“What? You told me what, Skylar?”
“It’s—gone. I don’t remember the dream.”
There was a strange disappointment in his eyes as he looked at her then. “Never mind, Skylar. Whatever—or whoever—those monsters are, I promise, you’re safe. They’ll not get by me.”
He drew her closer, moving his fingers through her hair, over her cheek. “Skylar, try to sleep. I’ll be here. Nothing will hurt you. No one can hurt you.”
But she sat up, looking at him in the shadows. He was a man of so many contrasts. With his ruggedly hewn bronze features and straight ebony hair, he might have appeared strangely out of place at Mayfair. Yet he did not. He looked very much like his father as well, wore the smoking jacket with complete ease, lay upon the handsomely carved bed with natural comfort. Likewise, his temper could flare so quickly, his violence surge, yet in startling moments, he could betray a gentle touch of tenderness.
“I swear to you, I never hurt your father,” she told him. “I didn’t hasten his death in any way.”
He sighed softly, reached for her, and drew her down to the covers against him once again. Her cheek lay against his bare chest. She was grateful for the warmth. Glad to lie against him.
He stroked tendrils of hair from her forehead. She thought that he would not reply. That he did not believe her.
“Skylar, you’ve got to sleep. You’ll be sorry if you don’t, I’m telling you.”
“Do you believe me?”
“I’m not sure that I want to believe you now,” he said softly.
“Why not?”
He hesitated. “Then I’d have to apologize for attacking your stagecoach, wouldn’t I?”
She smiled and closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
“But then again, maybe not. You were out here to lay claim to my property, hmm?”
“Have I managed to claim any?”
“You might be surprised,” he murmured. “Go to sleep, Skylar.”
She lay with her cheek against his heart and listened to its beat.
And slept.
It was earlywhen he awakened her, ridiculously early.
She’d fallen into a deep, restful sleep, so she was especially irritated when the covers were wrenched from her and she heard, “Up, Lady Douglas. Thirty minutes, and we’re on our way.”
She grabbed the covers, dragging them back over her head.
Once again, they were wrenched away. She still didn’t bother to open her eyes. “I can’t!” she murmured. “You’ll have to go without me.”
Then she felt a stinging swat on her backside. Indignantly, she leaped up to a sitting position, staring at her tormentor.
