“Even if it meant cutting your ties with me,” he finished for her. “Even if it meant destroying everything there was between us.”
Oh, how she hated his use of the past tense, as if everything they had shared was gone. But then, why would she expect anything different? She had left him. Had put an end to their affair. It was the past.
However, he was still here. And that had to mean something, did it not?
“Mira?” he prodded.
“Yes,” she allowed quietly. “Even if it meant destroying what was between us. I…I thought it was for the best.”
“Do you still think it is best?” he asked, moving nearer still.
Bringing with him the intoxicating scent that was purely his. “Do you want the truth? I have no notion of what to think any longer.”
He took her hands in his, the touch so needed. “Do you still want me?”
“Must you ask?”
“Aye.” His expression was grave. “I must. I’ll not return here, and I’ll never contact you again if I know you are certain and you feel your life is better without me in it.”
“I still want you,” she said softly.
A life without him in it? She had spent the last fortnight in abject despair. The notion of the rest of her life? It was unthinkable, unbearable.
“Good.” He raised her hands to his lips, kissing the knuckles. “I never stopped wanting you, Mira. Hell, I do not think it possible for me tostopwanting you. You have found your way into my blood, it seems. The only means by which I have managed to drive you from my mind has been drinking myself to oblivion, and even when I am sotted, you are there, at the edges of my every thought, haunting me.”
He had been suffering then, just as much as she had. The knowledge was bittersweet, for it did nothing to assuage their pain or to mend the rift she had created. Nor did it miraculously light a path for her to follow through the darkness.
“I never stopped wanting you either.” She gave him a tremulous smile, her foolish heart swelling with love for this man. “It is difficult for me. I have spent my life being a mother and putting all their needs and concerns first. What has happened between the two of us…I never expected to feel so strongly.”
“Nor did I.” He tugged her into his chest, and she went willingly, hungering for his sturdy protection, his warmth. He embraced her tightly. “Mira mine, I have never felt for another what I feel for you. It terrifies me to admit this, but I… Hell. I love you. You have my heart. You’ll always have my heart, even should you tell me to go to the devil in the next minute.”
He loved her? Her arms, which had naturally slid around his lean waist when he pulled her into his body, tightened. Her face was buried in his chest, and she inhaled deeply, savoring his scent, savoringhim.
“I love you too,” she murmured into his cravat.
She had never imagined she would admit that to the charming, wholly unsuitable, elegant, handsome rogue to whom she had lost her heart.
He stilled. “Pardon, Duchess?”
She laughed, but it was half a sob as she tipped her head back to meet his gaze. “Do not call me that, I beg of you.”
His expression was solemn. “As you wish, love. Pardon, Mira mine?”
She liked that better. Indeed, she liked that much, much better. Because she wanted to be his. In every way. Always.
Mirabel swallowed hard before repeating the three words. “I love you.”
“Thank Christ,” he said, then pressed a kiss to her forehead, her nose, her lips. “Say it again.”
“I love you,” she repeated into his mouth.
His only response was to crush her lips beneath his.
* * *
She loved him.
Fucking, floating hell.
