“No, I don’t.”
“You kissed him.”
“It was you.”
His face went from hard to stony and his voice was a dangerous rumble when he reminded her, “It wasn’t me.”
“Okay, then, it wasn’t you but I didn’t kiss him,” she tried and his eyebrows shot up so she finished, “He kissed me.”
“It made you cry.” It was an accusation and somehow she was stung by it.
Because of that, she retaliated, “Well, it was beautiful. Beautiful enough to…” She saw his jaw clamp and the now-familiar, telltale muscle leap. “Colin, it was you…”
“It wasn’t me and we both bloody well know it,” he bit out.
She stared at him and then brought her hands up to her face, pressing her fingers into her forehead and beginning to count to ten.
He interrupted her at three.
“Put your hands down, Sibyl.”
She did, quickly, and just as quickly she shot upright, making him rear back to avoid her smashing into him. She hauled the sheet up to her chest, even though she was still wearing her father’s robe but somehow she felt vulnerable and needed its protection.
She wasn’t comfortable and she wasn’t happy.
She was scared.
More scared than when she walked to her front door and saw Mallory’s motionless body, more scared than when the knife was at her throat, more scared than anytime in her life.
Part anger and part desire to have her cards on the table and find out what he felt for her drove her to say, “Okay, Colin, you want to know, I’ll tell you.”
She turned to him and found that he’d sat up in the bed as well and she had to tilt her head up to look at him. Something made her pause, something that was missing, something that made her fear she couldn’t trust him with this, her deepest secret.
But she’d started and now, she couldn’t stop.
“All my life,” she began, her voice soft, “I knew in my heart, knew without a doubt, that I was destined to be with someone. That some great force, bigger than any human or deity, was going to guide me to that man. I told my family and all my friends. I had boyfriends but I knew none of them was him so I didn’t get attached, couldn’t, because I had to be free when he found me or when I found him.”
She took in a ragged breath and realised she was having trouble breathing. She pulled in all her courage and forged ahead.
“The years passed and he never came. Then I realised he probably wouldn’t. Every day he didn’t come, it broke my heart a little more. That’s why I moved to England. Because I was always at peace here, at Brightrose especially, I knew somewhere deep inside me that this was my place. And if I couldn’t have him at least I’d be home.”
She realised she was relating all of this to Colin’s bare chest and she glanced at him and saw he was utterly still and, even at her glance, he remained completely silent.
His eyes, however, were very alive, so active she felt they were reaching out absorbing her.
She tried to ignore it, shifted her gaze to the bed and continued.
“A part of me still believed but I was beginning to lose faith.”
She stopped.
This was the hard part. Her breath was coming rapidly and she pulled one in deeply and let it out through her nose.
“Go on,” Colin urged, his voice back to velvet and her eyes flew to his to find them warm and searching.
“Then I dreamed of you.”
His eyes darkened and his hand instantly lifted to cup her jaw tenderly.