Page 63 of A Duke Makes a Deal
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked, worried.
“No,” she said breathlessly. “Although I suspect you were trying to.”
He scowled at her accusation.
“I shouldn’t have taken you against the wall like that.”
“I wasn’t talking about the wall,” Clara said, her gaze intent.
It was true that he had hoped to scare her off with his words, to pulverize whatever silly hope she had at breaking down his walls, but it seemed that plan had been doomed to failure. This stubborn, impossibly gentle, gorgeous woman seemed undeterred. Of course, that only frustrated Silas even more.
He steadied her shoulders before he took a step back.
“I wasn’t lying, Clara. I can’t love you.”
The words felt hollow as they dropped from his mouth, but he knew they were true.
Didn’t he?
“You don’t have to,” she said after a long moment, her unwavering eyes on him. “But could you let me love you?”
A strange lump seemed to grow in his throat as he stared at her. Why did she want to do something so dangerous? To love someone who didn’t return the love was a misery he would never wish on anyone, not even his worst enemy. Especially Clara.
“No,” he said decisively as he bent down to gather her dress.
To his surprise, Clara came forward, her short index finger poking him in the shoulder again. What was her obsession with poking him?
“Why not?” she asked, her tone no longer gentle and serene. He helped her dress in her wet gown. “Why are you so hellbent on being miserable forever?”
“I’m not hellbent—”
“Aren’t you?” she asked as he buttoned her dress. “For God’s sake, Silas, all I want to do is care for you, in the way a wife should care for her husband—”
“And I don’t want you to get hurt,” he said as he stalked away from her, back through the maze.
“Are you planning on hurting me?” she countered, causing him to spin around.
“No, never,” he said, the sincerity of his declaration apparently lost on the incensed Clara.
“Well, the only way I could be hurt is by you. All I’m asking is that you let me love you. I don’t see why I’m not permitted to try.”
Silas shoved a hand through his wet hair as confusion and aggravation coursed through him. Was she being purposefully obtuse?
“Fine, do as you please,” he said after several seconds of an internal struggle, continuing his walk.
He was glad he was walking ahead of her and couldn’t see her reaction to his words. No matter what she did, he intended to hold firm to his resolve to keep her at arm’s length. Otherwise he actually might hurt her. For god’s sake, his love for Cynthia had nearly destroyed him. Love was a treacherous, soul crushing sort of thing and he wouldn’t let Clara suffer it. He didn’t have the working equipment to do so. He was a broken man and she needed to accept that.
“I will,” she said once they reached the stone steps of the manse. “I love you, Silas Winters, and I shan’t ever stop.”
Silas froze in the doorway. The words sent a shock through him, as if he were standing next to a box of fireworks that had abruptly gone off without warning.
He turned and stared at her incredulously. She was determined, with her chin in the air, her mouth in a flat line and her eyes glowing, as if ready to argue her point.
“Why?” he asked after a deafening long time. “Why would you want to love someone like me?”
The heat in her glare diminished. She took a step towards him and her small hand reached out for his. His instincts told him to pull back, to refuse her intimacy, but he was frozen beneath her touch.
“Oh Silas,” she said softly. “Why wouldn’t I?”
