She noted he didn’t mention love but possession. Her heart ground to dust as the tears pricked her eyes. She told herself not to cry but she felt the wetness balancing on her lower lids and then sliding down her cheeks.
“You don’t own me,” she said quietly.
“Yes I do, sweetheart, and you know I do.” His tone was gentle and she found it far more difficult to handle than the game they’d been playing. “Why were you packing?” he asked softly.
She could no longer bear up so she gave in.
“I don’t want you to die,” she whispered, her voice broken and small. “If I leave, they’ll let you alone and I’d rather have you alive without me than dead…”She lost her train of thought but soldiered on. “Than just plain dead,” she finished lamely.
It was then he leapt out of his casual stance and, with another surprised yelp, she backed away, all the way to the wall. She slammed against it and before she could flee in another direction, his hard body was pressed against her.
“Colin, I have to go,” she begged, staring at his throat.
“You’re not going.” His voice was uncompromising.
“I have to!” she cried and his hands came up to either side of her face, forcing it to tilt back to see his.
“Darling, I’m going to ask you this once and you have to answer me and then stick by your answer no matter what happens in the coming weeks.” His voice was both sweet and grave and her eyes riveted on his beautiful face. “Do you trust me?”
She gawped. “Of course I trust you. I mean, how could you even think…?”
She stopped when she felt the tension ease out of him and realised what he was asking and how, exactly, what she had been doing appeared to him.
She closed her eyes and all the fight left her.
“I’m an idiot,” she whispered.
“Yes,” he agreed, “but you’re my idiot.” His voice was full of humour, her eyes flew open and all the fight came back into her.
“You think I’m an idiot?” she snapped.
“You’re just spoiling for a fight, aren’t you?” His eyes were dancing and she let out a huffy breath.
“Well, pardon me. No one gave me the etiquette book on how to behave when you’re the reincarnated soul of one of a pair of dead lovers, you’re living under a five hundred year old curse and have lunatics with knives and tranquilliser guns chasing after you with deadly intent. Perhaps I’m not thinking too clearly. Perhaps I’m just a wee bit stressed.”
His hands slid from her jaw to lift her hair at the back of her head and as he did this Sibyl noted his eyes were so intense, they were liquid.
Then, his gaze on her mouth, he murmured, “I know a much better way to deal with stress.”
“I’m sure you do,” she noted crisply, “you know everything.”
Colin’s head dipped and he smiled against her lips and there he whispered, “Just remember that.”
Then he kissed her.
Then he helped her work out her stress, succeeding spectacularly.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Settling In
The next week and a half with Sibyl was eventfully uneventful.
Although they had no attempts on their lives, Colin found his turned upside down.
Lacybourne was an enormous manor house that, since he’d moved in, had always seemed empty, even when he was occupying it. Now, every corner seemed filled with Sibyl, her pets, her mother, his mother and anyone else the trio deemed fit to add to the mix.
Sibyl had taken the news of a bodyguard watching after her very well. Colin inadvertently hit on the perfect way to break news that she may not like and avoid her formidable temper in the process.