Page 117 of The Captive
“Why areyouleavingus, Christian?”
A woman whose very life had depended on vigilant study of her husband would not be put off by platitudes. She’d trust her instincts, as Christian had learned to trust his.
“Us?” He shifted over her and ran his nose along her temple, taking in a whiff of roses and Gillian.
“Me and Lucy. I have never seen anything more heart wrenching than a child who will only cry silently on her papa’s shoulder.”
Neither had Christian, and yet, if Girard had plotted to end Gilly’s life, he was not above taking the child, even harming the child, for ends Christian could not fathom.
“She’s concerned I’ll go off to war again and be captured by another mad Frenchman, which is understandable.” He kissed the smooth warmth of Gilly’s brow, as if he might kiss away her doubts.
“She’s not concerned, she’s wildly upset.”
As was Gilly.
As was, truth be known, Christian. In his headlong glee to put a period to Girard’s existence, he had failed utterly to account for Gillian’s dim view of men and their violent behaviors.
Ofallmen who indulged in violent behaviors, and her reaction was entirely reasonable, while for Christian, backing down from the opportunity to dispatch Girard was unthinkable.
Lying to Gillian was beyond unthinkable. And yet, what did Christian say to her, the woman who’d saved his soul if not his body?
Nothing of any consequence, that’s what.
“You and Lucy can miss me together.”
Silence, the most trenchant, impenetrable silence Christian had encountered. He remained poised over the woman he loved, and quite honestly babbled, because he admitted the possibility—slim, but more than theoretical—that Gilly and Lucy could have a lifetime to miss him.
“The sad truth is, Lucy will never learn to trust that I’m always coming back to her if I don’t occasionally depart for a few days.” His lips, all of their own volition, wandered to Gilly’s mouth.
And she accepted his kisses, which was a mercy, because it occurred to him only now—now when he was once again doing business with death—that these might be the last kisses he’d ever give her.
“Shall I love you like this, my lady?”
She brought her knees up on either side of his flanks, as close to an invitation as he could hope for from her.
“I think I shall.” He dug deep and found reserves of patience sufficient to pleasure her more slowly than he had before. She became pliant in his arms and gradually began to move under him. When her kisses turned voracious, he pressed himself into her, slowly, slowly.
“Say you’ll miss me, Gilly.” He went still inside her, though restraint tormented him sorely.
“Don’t go. It isn’t right that you go, not this time. You won’t talk to me, Christian, and I need you to talk to me.”
He’d lose her if he admitted the violence of his errand, if he admitted to any characteristic in common with her late, vicious husband. He’d lose her if she learned he’d been untruthful.
“Are you afraid I won’t come back to you?” He brushed a lock of hair off her forehead. “Afraid I’ll be distracted by the noise and frivolity of Town?”
She closed her eyes and snugged her body closer to his. “You’re up to something, Christian. I can feel it. I’m worried for you, and you won’t tell—”
“Feel this.” He pressed forward by excruciating degrees, then withdrew at the same tempo almost to the point of leaving her body.
“Tell me…why you…must…” she said, but he advanced again, and her voice trailed off.
He wanted to confide in her, wanted to have no secrets, no silences between them, ever, but some truths were too costly.
“I will tell you I love you,” he said, lacing his fingers with hers on the pillow and setting up a gloriously languorous rhythm. “I love you as I’ve never loved another, as I never will love another.”
“Oh, God…Christian.” She bowed up, her face against his shoulder, and control slipped from her grasp. He wasn’t expecting passion to overtake her so soon, and he lost the battle to draw out his own pleasure. As he went over the edge with her, all he could think was:Iloveyou. I love you. I will always love you.
He didn’t know he’d made that declaration aloud until silence fell in the aftermath of their loving. Then he realized that come morning, he was the one who’d be leaving, but tonight, Gilly might be the one making her farewell.
