“That wasn’t your responsibility,” she said.
The images faded and he winced. He knew he loved her. Every time he thought of it, the emotion grew stronger and more insistent. More than that, he knew he wanted to do something about it. It was such an odd desire, after a life where he tried to avoid such attachment so strenuously.
But right now, Etta was still putting up walls between them. Perhaps they were because she only saw him as a friend…a friend who occasionally made her twist and moan with pleasure…but a friend. Or perhaps it was because she had never been given what she deserved when it came to her heart. Perhaps it was because she feared leaning into him if she thought she might fall.
And if that was the case, there was hope. If that was the case, he could prove her wrong and perhaps, just perhaps, work this out.
He got up and set the now dirty and bloody clothes in a pile to be taken away. He smiled at the whisky Kimball had placed on the tray. Theo’s best. He poured a small amount into a glass and brought it back to her.
“Drink this, it will make the pain a little less sharp. And then let’s get you to bed.”
She gave a small laugh as she took the glass and dutifully sipped from it. She pulled a face at the strength and then choked out, “I fear I won’t be the most strenuous lover, Theo.”
He wrinkled his brow. “I just want to hold you, Etta.”
She stared at him, the empty glass going slack in her hand. She looked confused by that statement, uncertain. But then she nodded. “I’d like that.”
He pulled the covers back on the bed and as she climbed in, he stripped out of his jacket and sat down to remove his scuffed boots. His trousers and shirt were clean enough, and once he was barefoot, he got up and turned toward the bed.
Once again, he was struck by how small she looked in his bed. Shrunken by fear and worry. He took his place beside her under the cool sheets and drew her to his side, wrapping his arms around her, holding her. Her hand fisted and released against his chest, her body trembled, but she didn’t weep again. And slowly, with the rhythmic tick of the clock, he felt her relax, felt her drift into sleep.
But he stayed awake. All night. Watching her breathe. And thanking whatever deity had intervened and kept her alive.
CHAPTER14
Bernadette woke slowly, drifting in and out of dreams until at last she found herself staring at the ceiling above her. Her body ached, stiff, and it reminded her of everything that had happened after the play the night before.
Including that she’d spent the night in Theo’s bed. His remarkably comfortable bed. The only thing wrong with it was that he wasn’t in it with her.
She sat up and winced with the dull pain that echoed through her body. Slowly she moved all her joints and limbs, checking for injuries she might have been too shocked to notice the previous night. She was relieved when she didn’t find any. She’d been lucky to escape with only the scrapes and bruises that Theo had so carefully tended to the previous night.
She flopped back on the pillows with a shake of her head. They’d made their rules of this affair, trying to keep things as detangled and simple as possible. She’dwantedthose rules between them so that nothing became confused, so that she didn’t start wanting things she couldn’t have.
And yet he’d asked her to stay last night, hadn’t made love to her, but simply held her. Was that out of fear? Out of pity? Out of guilt?
Her stomach turned at the idea that she had inspired any of those feelings. That he might only be with her because he now couldn’t find an escape route after the accident he’d bravely prevented.
She was about to get up when the door from the antechamber opened and he appeared. When he saw she was awake, he came to a complete stop and just stared at her. Her breath caught. He’d changed out of his clothing from the night before at some point while she slept. He wore a dressing gown but clearly had little under it, because it hit him at the knees and his legs were bare, as were his feet.
She had seen him naked before, of course. She’d very much enjoyed exploring his body while naked. But this feltdifferent. It felt…more vulnerable in some way? Because he was just going about his day, and she had no claim on that part of him.
He drew a little breath, then adjusted the tray he carried, laden with food. He carefully set it down on a table across the room before he moved toward her, his expression almost as unreadable as it had been the night before. Carefully unreadable, and again she shuddered at the idea that things had changed so much between them in one night.
“Good morning.” His voice was soft, almost hesitant.
She reached out a hand and he took it as he reached her. She expected him to tumble down beside her, but he didn’t, he just stood over her, watching her. There was a pulse of tension between them, and for once it wasn’t sexual. It felt…deeper, and she shoved that thought away violently.
This was exactly why they’d made their rules, exactly why they had each declared that this thing between them was only physical. If she misread it now, saw it for something else, she was bound to be hurt. She was as afraid of that as she was of the galloping horse that had nearly taken her life the night before.
What she knew she could trust with this man was passion. It was the only way she could connect with him that didn’t feel…fraught. Dangerous to her heart. And even that was, if she were honest. But in this moment, it was all she could demand or expect. The only way to balance the scales that felt off.
She tugged his hand and he stumbled forward onto the bed, into her arms. She slid her hands into his hair and drew him closer to her, taking his mouth just as he’d taken hers so many times in the last few days. To her relief, there was no hesitation to his response. He melted against her with a possessive growl, shifting his weight so he could hold her.
For a while, that was all they did. Kiss and kiss and kiss until she couldn’t remember or feel anything but him and this. But eventually, he pulled back a little. Their faces were still close as he murmured, “Are you certain you want this, Etta?”
“This is what we are, isn’t it?” she whispered.
There was a moment of hesitation in him again, and her heart raced with anxiety. Why did his expression change? Why did his breath hitch? Why did his mouth tighten?
