“We means you and me.”
Her entire frame visibly locked tight.
“But I can’t… you can’t…” She threw out her hands. “We don’t even like each other.”
“I don’t know you enough not to like you, Ilsa,” he pointed out.
“Well, you weren’t fired up to get to know me,” she returned, the fire back in her eyes. “And the way you communicated that, I’m not your biggest fan.”
He fought his lips twitching, failed in that endeavor and her eyes narrowed on his mouth.
He felt her eyes there and he felt them elsewhere as well.
Bloody hell.
Bellebryn with Ilsa was not a good plan.
But to save her the heartache of meeting Christophe and Élan, it was his only one.
However, she would make the choice.
“You have two choices, my dove,” he shared. “Karsvall with the children or Bellebryn with me.” He began to move to the door. “You have until the morning to make the choice. I’m here at sunrise. I either take you back to my home or I take you with me.” He stopped with his hand on the doorknob, his eyes on her. “I’ll come prepared either way.”
“I…you…we can’t…that’s…” she spluttered.
“Until the morning,” he said as his farewell, opened the door, moved through it and closed it behind him.
He expected her to follow him, calling his name and pleading or spitting fire.
If he was honest, he wasn’t expecting it. He was hoping for either one, he didn’t care which. Though he was leaning toward spitting fire.
She didn’t do either.
He fought back the disappointment he knew it was unhealthy to feel, grabbed his cloak from the hook by the door and lifted his chin to Henri, the innkeeper. When Henri gave him a wave, Apollo moved out into the cold and buckled on his cloak as he headed to the stables where he’d put Torment to keep him out of the chill.
He led Torment out, mounted him and clicked his tongue against his teeth, leaning forward, digging in his heels, and Torment shot through the snow.
He rode home knowing he should be thinking about a variety of things, making plans, prioritizing conversations.
But he didn’t ride home thinking about any of that.
He did it wondering what her answer on the morrow would be.
* * * * *
As Apollo rode toward his stables, he saw Achilles strolling out of them.
He reined in Torment close to his cousin and swung off, leading the horse to his brethren.
Achilles looked beyond him, then back at Apollo.
“Maddie is not with you,” he noted and Apollo felt his mouth tighten at the familiar name they called Ilsa.
He forced it to relax in order to say, “Indeed. She’s to stay at The Swan this eve. Dispatch fresh guards to relieve the ones at the inn.”
Achilles nodded but watched him closely, his cousin’s eyes, Apollo knew, not missing anything.
“This is a change in plans,” he remarked.