Graham watching Adelaide at supper, his expression hooded and unreadable, but oh-so-focused and confusing.
Graham, broken the night after he’d attacked Sir Archibald. Broken as he whispered his dark and painful secrets to a woman who didn’t even exist.
And Graham, who was just a few doors down the hall with James, talking about God knew what while she couldn’t stop thinking about him.
“Hello, Adelaide.”
She froze in her place facing the bookshelf and her heart began to pound so hard she feared it could be heard in the silent room. She’d thought she was safe here tonight. She’d thought Graham and James would likely spend many hours talking together.
It seemed she was wrong. She pivoted slowly and found exactly what she expected: Graham standing at the entrance to the room. His blond hair was half out of its queue and strands of it fell around his face, making him look undone and a little dangerous.
Because of course he was there when she was at her most vulnerable.Of coursehe was there, watching her, when her secrets were so close to the surface. When she knew she’d have to tell him, but just wasn’t ready yet.
“Hello,” she squeaked out.
He hesitated a moment, almost as if he were weighing his options, and then stepped fully into the library and gently shut the door behind himself.
She stared at him. They were inappropriately alone now. She had never been alone with him like this as Adelaide. Brief moments on the terrace were nothing like this, where the room was so small and tight and no one knew they were here together.
No one could interrupt.
Despite the danger of this moment, despite her foolishness in wishing it would grow more dangerous still, her body reacted of its own accord to what he’d done. She started to tingle, making it very clear what she wanted from the man no more than three feet away from her.
“I thought you’d gone to bed,” he said, and she was almost certain he gave the wordbedjust a tiny bit more weight.
She worried her hands in front of herself. “I couldn’t sleep. Not that I tried that hard.”
He moved a hand up to brush a lock of hair from his forehead and she tracked the motion, drawn once again to the bruises on his knuckles. She should have asked for ice. It would have helped the swelling. He frowned at how she looked at his injuries.
“Ugly, aren’t they?” he said, holding his hands out so she could look more closely.
She caught her breath. “I don’t think so.”
“No?” he pressed, coming forward a step. He brought his body heat with him, his unwavering presence that seemed to take up all the space, all the air, everything she needed to survive.
She should have stepped away, but instead she reached out. Her fingers nearly brushed the bruising, but he pulled back, ducking his head.
“What you must think of me,” he said softly. “You and Emma.”
She pursed her lips, frustrated that he knew so little of her real self that he would think she’d judge him for what he’d done. Pained that he judged himself even more harshly.
“You did something brave, it seems to me,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “To protect your…yourfriendas you did.”
He winced. “If you were there, you would have thought me an animal, Adelaide.”
She fisted her hands at her sides. “Of course you weren’t an animal, Graham,” she insisted, her emotion bubbling over even though she didn’t want it to. “That man’s intentions were clear—he wouldn’t have stopped unless you stopped him. What would have happened then? I know exactly what would have happened. I would have been raped and—”
She cut herself off and jerked her hands to her lips. What had she just said? In her fervor to soothe Graham, what in the world had she just said?
Graham lifted his gaze to her and his brow wrinkled with confusion. “What did you say?”
She backed up, and this time he didn’t hesitate to move forward. He tilted his head now, examining her.Reallylooking at her.
“I didn’t say anything,” she said. “I-I was just repeating what you said about your friend.”
“You saidIwould have.I, not she.” He moved closer again and she staggered, almost tripping off the edge of the rug as her backside hit the bookcase behind her. He pressed farther into her space, not quite touching her, but looming up nonetheless, his face too close to hers.
His bright, impossibly blue gaze piercing. Andseeing. Her breath grew ragged, the only broken sound in the quiet room around them. She wanted to turn and run, but there was nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide. Not anymore.
