“No exceptions.”
She ignored him and stated, “Not on that table. My father rebuilt and refinished that table, you’ll not…” she paused, not knowing how to put it.
He was ever-so-helpful in a way she was beginning to realise with great annoyance was so very him. “Fuck you on the table?”
She thought she might just burst into tears.
Somehow she felt in her very soul that this was all wrong and she knew it was the dreams. They were just dreams but she felt, even hoped, deep down inside that they meant something more. That they meant her years of searching for her dream man, her knight, the other piece of her heart, were over.
Apparently, they did not.
“Yes,” she hissed and controlled, with a mighty effort, her rampaging emotions.
“Fine,” he relented, the pressure of his hands gentling but he did not release her.
“I want the money tomorrow,” she told him. If she was going to do this, she’d better do it now or she’d chicken out. Her mind was racing, two months yawned before her, filled with blackness.
“Then you’re in my bed tomorrow night.”
Her stomach clenched at his words but she nodded, her hair annoyingly falling all around her face and, with her hands held behind her back, she could do nothing about it.
“How shall we seal this bargain?” he asked, his voice had turned from edgy and intense to something else entirely and she could just not believe that her stomach actually did a mini-flip.
She didn’t even chance a look at his face.
“Mr. Morgan, you don’t touch me…” She had to stop because she was pressed up against him from toe to chest and his arms were wrapped around her. “Anymore… until tomorrow.”
“The name is Colin,” he clipped.
She tossed her head and glared at him.
“Tomorrow,” she snapped.
Surprisingly, he let her go.
She took a quick step back but her pride would not allow more. She was not going to let him know how terrified she was. Nor how devastated.
“My jewellery,” she held out her hand, palm up. This position was familiar and it seemed, now, Colin Morgan would always be holding something of hers she wanted back.
She had to gulp down her tears again as he deposited the jewellery into her hand.
Her fingers curled over it slightly and she dropped her head and poked at the precious pendant with her finger, cursing, for the millionth time, her absentmindedness that caused her to forget it in the first place.
This action also served to hide her face from his view.
She didn’t want to look at him. She didn’t know what she’d do if she looked at him. Probably run from the house and never stop running.
And how was that going to get a minibus?
She could taste the vile disappointment in her mouth that Rescuer Colin was not the real Colin.
And in that moment, Sibyl Godwin let go all of her wondrous dreams of finding her fated one, true, beautiful love. They flew away from her and she felt the acute pain as if they’d been torn from her physically.
His hand came out and he used the side of crooked finger to lift her chin so he could look into her eyes.
His were completely and utterly blank.
And that scared her most of all.