The problem was she had no idea how to make it right.
Obviously, she’d learned nothing from her past mistakes, for she’d panicked and run, just like she had seven years ago. Roarke likely thought that she didn’t trust him, that when she said she loved him, it was just another lie in her long list of transgressions.
But it wasn’t true.
Athena had told her to listen to Roarke’s side of the story, to give him a chance to explain why he’d left her that morning at Eversleigh Hall, but what if he didn’t want to hearherexcuses for leaving? What if—perish the thought—he was glad that she was gone?
What if…what if…what if…
Mara shook her head. She would go crazy if she didn’t stop this incessant wondering. Bentley was going to live, and that’s what she had to focus on. Everything else would have to be dealt with as it came—one day at a time.
Pansy had already lit a fire in her room when Mara entered. The rest of the chamber was in shadow and Mara couldn’t help but shudder suddenly. While the color scheme wasn’t as bold as that of Celeste’s room with her red, gold, and orange, the various shades of silver and green were just as telling and bespoke of what this room represented—a brothel.
But she knew that wasn’t what had made her shiver.
The fine hairs on her nape stood on end, and her skin prickled as she slowly turned back around. Her lungs instantly ceased to draw breath as she caught sight of Roarke’s silhouette in the door frame filling the void she’d just entered…
