Page 25 of Girl Anonymous

He looked into her face. “You know who I am.”

Slowly she sat up. He wasn’t asking whether she knew his name. He was asking if she knew who hewas. “I do.” Should she panic?

“You know who my father was. You know who my family is. You know the war that lies in the long years of history between my family and yours.”

That settled any question that lingered in her mind. He knew she was the child who…escaped. He knew what they shared; in the same instant, in a forceful explosion, their lives had broken in half.

How long had he known? Had he recognized her yesterday? Or had Mrs. Arundel known and told him?

So many questions, all of them horrible and terrible, all of them leading to pain and death…for her. She met Dante’s gaze because she had seen her mother grovel, and what good had that done? If she had to die, she’d do it with her chin high. “I do know.”

“You remember the explosion. That’s clear.”

“I don’t remember my father at all, and I remember my mother only in flashes, but the explosion—yes, I remember that, all too often, in my nightmares.”

“Our two families have driven each other almost to extinction. Ruthless killings, biblical in scope. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.”

Bitterly she said, “And the whole world is blind and toothless.”

“According to my father—he told this to me many times—the only way this can end is with one family victorious.”

“The Arundels victorious.” It wasn’t a guess.

“Of course. That means that every person in your family is dead, slaughtered on the altar of a blood vendetta begun so long ago no one remembers the origins.”

He was wrong. She knew. “This is quite a roundabout way of explaining why you would have kept it in your pants if you’d known I was a virgin.”

He held up his hand, demanding her patience. “You have to know there’s another way to finish this vendetta.”

“I’m all for it, since from my point of view, I’m the one who’s likely to end up dead.”

He turned his head and looked at her, his eyes dark and inscrutable. “An unbreakable union between the two families.”

“A contract between us promising we won’t whack each other anymore? Like that’s going to—”

He smiled a smile that mocked her foolishness.

She caught on.Marriage.He was talking aboutmarriage. That kind of union. She hung on the realization as if it were a noose around her neck. “No, no. Don’t be silly. That would be… medieval.”

“Medieval as in how long this vendetta has been going on? Medieval as the traditional medieval way to end a feud?”

He leaned in close, close enough to make her feel threatened, and she was pretty sure that was what he wanted.

He asked, “Why should I even care whether we have a peace? You’re the only remaining member of your family. If I kill you, the vendetta is over. The Arundels have won. That’s one issue settled.” He leaned back. “But I’m not my father. I’m not a vengeful bastard who justifies intercourse with the enemy before I snuff them out. Before I snuffyouout. I actually have real human emotions, like compassion, which as far as I can tell, my father never did. No. I’ll end the feud without more violence, and the only bloodshed is your blood in my shower.”

Way to spell it out. He hadn’t learned the lessons his father taught. Maybe he’d escaped soon enough. Maybe he hadn’t inherited those character traits. Maybe his mother had instilled morals in him. Whatever it was, he wouldn’t kill her…but he would marry her.

Medieval? Yes! This guy was medieval all the way. Firmly she said, “I’m not deliberately flinging myself on pointed bamboo stakes to heal the breach.”

He lifted the covers and looked. “Did you hear that?” he said conversationally. “You’ve been compared to a pointed bamboo stake.”

Cute. He was talking to his cock. She wasnotamused. “I’m not going to…to produce a child so we can declare that a ridiculous hostility is all better now. My God, would you want to spend the rest of your life with me?” Before he could answer, she answered for him. “No, you would not! We barely know each other.”

“I know you deliberately faced the fire and explosion to save my mother.”

“I didn’t succeed!” Tears sprang to her eyes.

He took a breath, looked away, struggled with emotion she could comprehend only too well. “My mother died despite your efforts, not because of them.”

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