Page 59 of The Last Chance
Not when he filled every space in her heart and mind.
She wanted to slip into his warm embrace, kiss him, indulge in wicked fantasies, but she had to be strong. She was falling in love with him. A slow tumble that began weeks ago and gained momentum the moment their lips met.
But one could not make a life with half a man.
While Gabriel wanted nothing, Mr Chance’s demons left him wavering between worlds, drifting between darkness and daylight, between freedom and fear. A wanderer on a quest to escape his emotions.
It hurt to think about it. She had gripped his arm and promised friendship, but how did one douse the flames of desire? Like the sacred fire on Mount Olympus, would her need for himalways burn this fiercely? Would she die with his name on her lips?
“I shall write to my family in the morning and insist they reside here,” he said, jostling her from her reverie. “I was wrong to think we’d be safer apart. As we learned tonight, my nemesis has Lucifer’s cunning.”
He referred to the threatening letter and the villain’s plan to use Lucia to throw them off the scent—the scheme to blame a maid, not a master criminal. The devil was always one step ahead. But Aaron Chance had another reason for not wanting to be alone with her.
“Can I ask you something?”
He looked at her in the gloom. “You can ask me anything.”
Do you believe we can be friends and nothing more?
Is it possible to kiss like we did and forget it ever happened?
“When did you realise nothing would ever be more important than your family?” A wave of emotion tightened her throat. A selfish part of her hoped she haunted his waking hours and stalked his dreams. “Help me understand what the vow means to you.”
He stared at her like she’d asked him to descend into the bowels of hell. “I try to avoid revisiting dark memories, but I will for you.” He stepped closer, the power of attraction sparking between them. Standing in the gloom, he inhaled as if bolstering his defences. “I was barely thirteen when I realised I would die to protect my brothers.”
“So young?” What was he like then? Had he always possessed a commanding presence? Had he been a fearful boy forced to become a man?
“It wasn’t by choice.” He averted his gaze, not wanting her to see how much the memory pained him.
“You enjoy philosophy and medieval history. I imagine you were quite studious then.” When did his thirst for knowledge become a thirst for blood?
A sigh of regret escaped him. “Tales of the Crusades are unimportant when you’re trying to survive. Nothing matters but living to see the sunrise.”
Fractured memories of her own past entered her mind. A frightened girl of eighteen searching taverns and brothels looking for her absent father. The hunt for lost pennies to buy food and coal. Lying awake in the dark, wondering when he would come home.
“I understand,” she said. His scars were thin white lines weaving a path across his chest. Like an iceberg, the real depth of his pain remained hidden beneath the surface. “You were fighting in the pits then.”
“More dodging and defending than fighting, but I was quick on my feet and learned to punch back. I imagined every opponent was my father. Hatred can give a boy the power of the gods.”
Her heart wept for him. He must have been terrified.
“And your brothers didn’t suffer in the same way?”
“He came for Aramis once.” Mr Chance gritted his teeth and cursed his father to Hades. “He needed a weak, inexperienced boy because it pleased the punters, and he had already taken his fee.”
“Was there no end to your father’s cruelty?”
“Ignatius Chance lived to please himself.”
“So you strive to be the father your brothers never had.”
He nodded. “We all deserved better.”
“Did he take Aramis that night?” Joanna imagined a boy waking amid a violent thunderstorm, a flash of lightning illuminating a slobbering beast lingering in the doorway.
“No. I pleaded with him and agreed to take a beating. I suffered three cracked ribs, a split lip and a fractured wrist. He made me fight a fortnight later.”
His eyes held a haunted look.
