fear ran down his spine, tempting him to huddle beneath the covers, and he tried to draw away, but she would not let him.
“That an innate sense of self-preservation bid you to act does not lessen the guilt, does it.” She spoke with a confidence borne of experience. He vowed then she would never know that guilt again. Never have to steal or fear. Even if he was no longer living, his money would keep her secure.
He forced himself to speak. “No, it doesn’t.”
She nodded, her silken hair a red spill over her pillow. The rain came tapping upon the window and then a violent gust of wind rattled and demanded entrance.
“I have never told anyone that story,” she said after a moment.
The pillow beneath his head rustled as he lay watching her. “Why did you tell me?”
Her small hand clasped his tighter, drawing him near. “The whole of my life I have relied on beauty first, brains second. It was expected, even requested. But you saw right through me from the start. You are the only man I’ve ever known who has looked beyond my face and wanted to know me for me. And I find myself wanting you to know the whole of me.”
I love you. For one agonized moment, he feared he had said it aloud. His soul fairly shouted it. Three long years and not a day had passed when he hadn’t thought about her. She’d filled his mind until she’d become the quintessence of womanly perfection, so much so that when he had come for her, he feared she might not live up to his impossible expectations. And she didn’t. Yes, the real Miranda was brave, loyal, and pragmatic. She was also meddling, quarrelsome, and opinionated. The real Miranda was human, and by God, she took his breath away. He knew he would love her until the end of time. What was he to do?
Thunder rumbled over the house as their breath mingled. “And you?” he managed past the tightness in his throat. “Have you not given me the same gift? Not in all the years since I’ve donned this miserable mask has anyone dared bother.”
The air between them grew heavy, languid. He would not kiss her. He would not. His heart thumped a wild rhythm against his ribs. But he could hold her. Only that. Slowly, as a man approaching a skittish colt, he reached out. She lowered her lids as his hand curled around her tiny waist. The feel of her body melting against his left him breathless for one dizzy moment. Gently, he tucked her head beneath his chin. He wanted to bury his face in her hair and breathe her in, linger there for days just holding her. Did the rest of the world not realize what excruciating pleasure simply holding a woman could inflict upon a man?
He was ten types of fool for bringing her into his life. And selfish. So very selfish for doing it when he knew full well there was no hope for him. He knew this. Only logic was desire’s bitch. It never stood a chance. And from the moment he saw her, neither did he. Find the ring. Daoud had been certain that the ring had the answer to his cure. Find the ring and then he would claim her.
Her slender hand rested over his heart as she sighed. “I hate being afraid, Archer.”
Carefully, he smoothed her hair and tried to remain relaxed. That she was afraid, in danger, because of him made him want to scream. “I do too.” He kissed the top of her head and closed his eyes against the rush of helplessness and rage. “Sleep, Miranda Fair. I’m with you now.”
Chapter Nineteen
Shall I get rid of this person, my lady?”
It was past six, a highly unfashionable time for callers, which was confirmed by the set pinch of Gilroy’s nose. Furthermore, the caller was a gentleman. And alone. Quite boorish, said Gilroy’s twitching nostrils.
The tip of Miranda’s finger pressed into the edge of the caller’s card. The name upon it mocked her. Time to pay the piper. Just what his price might be put a bitter taste in her mouth.
“No.” She smoothed her skirts with an unsteady hand. “I shall see him.” Her voice did not sound quite right, she knew. She had awakened alone and remained that way all day. Archer was avoiding her. She knew it in her bones, and it made her want to strike something. Or perhaps someone.
She