Page 65 of Enchanted
“All I could.”
She shook her head fiercely. “No, all youwould,” she tossed back. “You knew exactly how vulnerable I was when I came here, how lost.”
“I did, yes. That’s why I—”
“So you offer me a chance to work with you,” she interrupted. “Knowing I was already dazzled by you, knowing how desperately I needed something. Then, in your own good time, you told me who you were, who I was. At your pace, Liam, always at your pace. And each time I moved exactly as you expected I would. It’s all been just another game.”
“That’s not true.” Incensed, he took her arms. “I thought of you, too damn much of you. And did what I thought was right, what was best.”
The jolt shot through his fingertips, up his arms, with such heat and power, it knocked him back two full steps. This time he could only gape at her, shocked to the core that she’d caught him so completely unaware.
“Damn it, Rowan.” His hands still stung from the slap of her will.
“I won’t be bullied, either.” Her knees were jellied at the realization she’d had not only the ability but the fury to shove him back with her mind. “This isn’t what you expected. This isn’t one of your possibilities. I wassupposed to come in here with you tonight, listen to you, then fold my hands, bow my head like the quiet little mouse I am, and leave it all up to you.”
Her eyes were vividly blue, her face was no longer pale but flushed with anger and, to his annoyance, was outrageously beautiful. “Not precisely,” he said with dignity. “But it is up to me.
“The hell it is. You have to decide what you want, true enough, but don’t expect me to sit meekly while you choose or discard me. Always, always, people have made decisions for me, chosen the way my life should go. What have you done but the same?”
“I’m not your parents,” he shot back. “Or your Alan. These were different circumstances entirely.”
“Whatever the circumstances, you held the controls and guided me along. I won’t tolerate that. I’ve been ordinary.” The words ripped out of her, straight from the belly. “You wouldn’t understand that—you’ve never been ordinary. But I have, all my life. I won’t be ordinary again.”
“Rowan.” He would try calm, he told himself. He would try reason. “All I wanted for you was what you wanted for yourself.”
“And what I wanted most was for you to love me. Just me, Liam, whatever and however I am. I didn’t let myself expect it, but I wanted it. My mistake was in still not thinking enough of myself.”
Tears shone in her eyes now, unmanning him. “Don’t weep. Rowan, I never meant to hurt you.” He took her hand now, and she let it lie limply in his.
“No, I’m sure you didn’t,” she said quietly. The force of her fury had passed. Now she was only tired. “That only makes it sadder. And me more pathetic. I told you I loved you.” Tears still trembled on the edge of her voice. “And you know I do. But you can’t tell me. You can’t decide if it … suits you.”
She swallowed the tears, reached deep for the pride she’d used too rarely. “From here, I decide my own fate.” She drew her hand from him, stood back. “And you yours.”
She turned to the door, bringing him a fresh and baffling wave of panic. “Where are you going?”
“Where I please.” She glanced back. “I was your lover, Liam, but never your partner. I won’t settle for that, not even for you.” She let out a quiet breath, studying him in the shifting light. “You had my heart in yourhands,” she murmured. “And you didn’t know what to do with it. I can tell you, without the crystal ball, without the gift, you’ll never have another like it.”
As she slipped away from him, he knew it was not only prophecy; it was truth.
***
It took her a week to deal with the practicalities. San Francisco hadn’t changed in the months she’d been gone, nor in the days she’d been back. But she had.
She could look out her window now, at the city, and realize it hadn’t been the place that had dissatisfied her, but her place in it. It was doubtful she’d ever live there again, but she thought she could look back and find memories—good and bad. Life was made up of both.
“Are you sure you’re doing the right thing, Rowan?” Belinda asked. She was a graceful woman, with dark hair, short as a pixie’s, and eyes of misty green.
Rowan glanced up from her packing and looked into Belinda’s concerned face. “No, but I’m doing it just the same.”
Rowan had changed, Belinda mused. She was certainly stronger, more than a little wounded. Guilt nagged at her. “I feel some responsibility in this.”
“No.” Rowan said it firmly, and smoothed a sweater into her suitcase. “You’re not responsible.”
Restless, Belinda wandered to the window. The bedroom was nearly empty now. She knew Rowan had given many of her things away, stored others. In the morning, she would be gone. “I sent you there.”
“No, I asked if I could use your cabin.”
Belinda turned. “There were things I could have told you.”
