Page 103 of Return to Me Always

"I'm fine," I lied.

"You need to rest. No more shagging till you feel better." I couldn't help laughing at that word while Tyler studied my bandage. "All right. No bleeding at least."

God, he was so stinkin' sweet.

After his inspection was over, his eyes moved to my face, and I sensed that he was contemplating something. Carefully, he stood up from the bed.

"Stay right there for a minute, will ya?" he said as he disappeared from the room.

I couldn't begin to guess what he was doing, and honestly, I didn't even care. All I could think about was the amazing feeling swirling around inside me, infusing every cell of my mind, heart, and soul.

This...thiswas what everyone talked about. This was what romantic novels and movies were all about. This was what rock stars sang about. What I'd had before with my high school ex seemed like nothing now.

Tyler was the love of my life. Healwayshad been. I just didn't know it. And now, I could never go back. I never wanted to go back, and I would do whatever it took for us to be together. I just didn't know what that would take.

With that thought, I began to spiral and worry because despite sharing our bodies, sharing our love, and sharing the most unbelievably challenging time together being on the run, we had a great deal left unsaid between us.

I had no freaking clue what Tyler was thinking or what he wanted to do. I knew he loved me, knew he wanted me, but how could we be together?

Tyler arrived back in the bedroom, a smile on his face as he carried some kind of overflowing notebook tucked under his arm plus a few pencils in his hand.

Still completely naked, he sat his beautiful body on the edge of the bed, his hesitant eyes meeting mine. "Will you let me draw you?"

I gulped in astonishment, suddenly aware of how very nude I was at the moment. "You mean like this? No clothes?"

His grin turned wicked. "No clothes. No covers."

Whoa. With a belly full of nerves, I covered myself with the sheets while Tyler laughed softly and handed me a messy pile of papers.

My breath caught as I realized what they were. I finally had a chance to see all these drawings that Tyler had created over the years. I held up the first one and saw it was the same picture I had seen on that very first night when I had met Tyler.

My memories had been incorrect. They had softened the likeness in the drawing. And now that I could see it and truly study it, the girl in the drawing lookedexactlylike me. But there was something different about it, something different from my reflection in the mirror, something I couldn't quite figure out.

Almost forgetting Tyler was sitting right there, I rushed to pick up another drawing—this one of the castle. I couldn't believe how real it looked, like I could reach out and feel the hardness of the stone wall.

Before I could study the next one, Tyler grabbed it, and I saw a flash of Malcolm's face. He shuffled through the rest and pulled out a few more of him, placing them face down next to him. "Won't be needing these any longer."

"You drew Malcolm too?" I asked, shocked at the likeness I'd seen.

"Aye," he admitted. "Everything I could remember, I tried to draw it."

A few more puzzle pieces clicked into place. "Do you suppose he had the same kind of dreams and that's how he knew where to find us, why he always seemed to track us down?"

"I'm sure of it. We all knew about the castle, but you didn't know it was real. I knew. He must have known too, and we ended up following the same path to get there."

"And why? Why was he so obsessed with me? With us?"

"I don't know the exact answer to that. I only have bits. Maybe someday we can piece it together, compare what we've both dreamed about and figure out the why… why Malcolm was so relentless."

I shuddered, remembering his bloody face as he slouched up against the ruined wall.

"Do you—" I started then stopped, realizing I might not want to ask this question of Tyler.

He lifted my chin as I clutched onto the covers in my hands. "Do I what?" he asked.

Swallowing hard, I tried to get out the words. "Well, do you ever feel, um, I guess, think about Malcolm and how..." God, I just couldn't say it because I didn't want to upset him.

"How I shot him?" he said.

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