He’d been drawn to her, inexplicably. Certainly unadvisedly.
Theirs had been a romance doomed for failure, but when they were together, it was simply right.
Just like it felt right holding her like this. When she was in his arms he couldn’t believe she wasn’t a miracle, a dream come true, a prayer answered. She had to be. Anything else was inconceivable.
He tore himself away from her, leaving her swaying in the middle of the room, a look of confusion on her face. ’Twas dangerous to think that way, to let his heart rule his mind. Whatever nightmare she was having had nothing to do with that night in the garden.
He stepped away, schooling his features, pushing the memories from his mind to become the guardian he was meant to be. “Do you feel better?”
She nodded, head bent, her fall of mink hair hiding her face. He checked the urge to push the hair away and see into her eyes.
Finally she looked at him, a quick glance before she looked away but enough to tell him how scared and confused she was.
He held his hand out to her. “Come. Let us eat breakfast.”
She hesitated, her gaze flying to him before she tentatively wrapped her fingers around his. He led her to his kitchen where a wide variety of breakfast food awaited. Before retiring for the morning he’d instructed his chef to have food sent up in the hope she’d still be here, but even he was surprised at the abundance.
Madelaine stared blankly at the spread. Her hair was in disarray, as if she’d been well loved. The nightmare he’d woken her from still had its claws in her.
She sat at the breakfast bar, her movements wooden, automatic. Christien poured them each a tall mug of steaming coffee from a carafe, nudging hers closer when she didn’t immediately take it.
He waited until she took a few sips, and forced himself to wait until she took a few more. She was looking a little more awake and was eyeing the food hungrily. She slathered a bagel with cream cheese and took a big bite. His gaze followed the movement of the tip of her tongue as it licked the cheese from the corner of her mouth, his body responding with a ferocity he hadn’t felt in a long time.
In fact he remembered the last time he’d felt this type of intense need. ’Twas his last night with Madelaine.
He shoved the thought away because it brought too much pain and heartache. Their entire relationship had been nothing but pain and heartache if he was truthful. They’d been foolish. Stupid, would be a more accurate term. They had no business conversing let alone becoming so well acquainted, yet he wouldn’t trade those times for anything.
“Tell me about the dream,” he said after she finished her bagel.
Her gaze slid away. His anger resurfaced, nearly consuming him. He pushed off his stool to refill his coffee, surprised to see his hand tremble from fury. Damn her. And damn him for wanting to believe in her. She was nothing but a conniving liar. A fake. Suddenly he hated her. Hated her for who she looked like and the memories she’d dragged out of him. Hated her for distracting him at a time when he could ill afford distractions.
But most of all he hated her for making him feel again. And just as quickly as the hate came, it disappeared, leaving him empty and confused.
“Who did you want me to run from?” He took a sip of coffee, swallowing the hot brew quickly and feeling the burn all the way to his gut.
Her face paled and her lips thinned into a tight line. He wanted to shake the answer out of her, but knew that would only scare her and regardless of his anger, he didn’t want to frighten her any more than she already was.
“Don’t you think after all that has happened you can trust me?”
“I trust you.”
He wanted to laugh at her outrageous lie. “Do you?”
She hopped off the stool. Her face went from pale to red in a heartbeat, surprising him. “I’m trying,” she said between clenched teeth. “Can’t you see I’m trying? I don’t know who to
Theirs had been a romance doomed for failure, but when they were together, it was simply right.
Just like it felt right holding her like this. When she was in his arms he couldn’t believe she wasn’t a miracle, a dream come true, a prayer answered. She had to be. Anything else was inconceivable.
He tore himself away from her, leaving her swaying in the middle of the room, a look of confusion on her face. ’Twas dangerous to think that way, to let his heart rule his mind. Whatever nightmare she was having had nothing to do with that night in the garden.
He stepped away, schooling his features, pushing the memories from his mind to become the guardian he was meant to be. “Do you feel better?”
She nodded, head bent, her fall of mink hair hiding her face. He checked the urge to push the hair away and see into her eyes.
Finally she looked at him, a quick glance before she looked away but enough to tell him how scared and confused she was.
He held his hand out to her. “Come. Let us eat breakfast.”
She hesitated, her gaze flying to him before she tentatively wrapped her fingers around his. He led her to his kitchen where a wide variety of breakfast food awaited. Before retiring for the morning he’d instructed his chef to have food sent up in the hope she’d still be here, but even he was surprised at the abundance.
Madelaine stared blankly at the spread. Her hair was in disarray, as if she’d been well loved. The nightmare he’d woken her from still had its claws in her.
She sat at the breakfast bar, her movements wooden, automatic. Christien poured them each a tall mug of steaming coffee from a carafe, nudging hers closer when she didn’t immediately take it.
He waited until she took a few sips, and forced himself to wait until she took a few more. She was looking a little more awake and was eyeing the food hungrily. She slathered a bagel with cream cheese and took a big bite. His gaze followed the movement of the tip of her tongue as it licked the cheese from the corner of her mouth, his body responding with a ferocity he hadn’t felt in a long time.
In fact he remembered the last time he’d felt this type of intense need. ’Twas his last night with Madelaine.
He shoved the thought away because it brought too much pain and heartache. Their entire relationship had been nothing but pain and heartache if he was truthful. They’d been foolish. Stupid, would be a more accurate term. They had no business conversing let alone becoming so well acquainted, yet he wouldn’t trade those times for anything.
“Tell me about the dream,” he said after she finished her bagel.
Her gaze slid away. His anger resurfaced, nearly consuming him. He pushed off his stool to refill his coffee, surprised to see his hand tremble from fury. Damn her. And damn him for wanting to believe in her. She was nothing but a conniving liar. A fake. Suddenly he hated her. Hated her for who she looked like and the memories she’d dragged out of him. Hated her for distracting him at a time when he could ill afford distractions.
But most of all he hated her for making him feel again. And just as quickly as the hate came, it disappeared, leaving him empty and confused.
“Who did you want me to run from?” He took a sip of coffee, swallowing the hot brew quickly and feeling the burn all the way to his gut.
Her face paled and her lips thinned into a tight line. He wanted to shake the answer out of her, but knew that would only scare her and regardless of his anger, he didn’t want to frighten her any more than she already was.
“Don’t you think after all that has happened you can trust me?”
“I trust you.”
He wanted to laugh at her outrageous lie. “Do you?”
She hopped off the stool. Her face went from pale to red in a heartbeat, surprising him. “I’m trying,” she said between clenched teeth. “Can’t you see I’m trying? I don’t know who to
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