Page 71 of You Only Love Twice
Gemma hung her head. "Yes, Your Grace."
And then, unable to bear his disapproval any longer, she turned and strode blindly for the door.
* * *
The door opened quietly.
The second he smelled her perfume, Malloryn knew who it was. Nobody else would dare enter the room while he was in this mood. And she couldn't resist.
"Get out," he said flatly, nursing his brandy.
He knew he wasn't himself.
It was happening all over again, and he couldn't help seeing Gemma's body jerk as Obsidian shot her that night in Russia, again and again.
Not her. Please not her.
He needed her off this case before she could be injured. He'd thought he could manage his feelings toward her when he brought her back into this operation, but the last few days had been a recurring nightmare he couldn't seem to wake from. It brought the past rushing back to him; Catherine's smile haunting him every time he saw the same smile on Gemma's face.
"You can't protect her from the world," Isabella murmured, wrapping her arms around him from behind.
"It's not the world I want to protect her from."
He pushed away from her, unable to bear a comforting touch, even from her. There was a spiraling sensation in his chest. A feeling events were spinning out of control.
"She said you'd taken her off the case."
"It's for her own good." He'd never imagined Gemma would be facing Dmitri again.
"She thinks she's failed you again."
"Failed me?" He jerked his head to stare at the woman who'd once been his mistress. "How...? But...?"
"Russia, Malloryn." Isabella rolled her eyes. "You have no idea, do you? For all your frightful intelligence, you are severely blinded to those closest to you. Have you ever told Gemma what she means to you?"
"She means nothing more than—"
"Stoplyingto yourself." Isabella glared at him. "I know you see Catherine every time you look at Gemma."
"It's not what you think."
"Oh, I'm aware of that. Do you think I would ever have seduced you if I thought your heart lay elsewhere? Gemma's the one weakness you own though."
"It's...." He tried to explain it.
"You couldn't protect Catherine," Isabella continued in a firm voice, "and you watched Gemma nearly die in your arms. I know Russia frightened you more than you'll ever admit. I watched you change when you realized what she meant to you. You've always tried to keep Gemma at arm's length. You're astonishingly protective of her, for a man who doesn't care." She stepped closer. "You disapprove of her love life like a curmudgeonly older uncle; you sent her away for all those years as if you wanted to keep her out of harm's way; she exasperates you; you lecture her all the damned time.... Malloryn, I know what she means to you. She's like a sister, isn't she?"
"Catherine's little sister," he breathed.
Isabella reared back. "What?"
"Not by blood," he murmured, his shoulders sinking. "I've checked. I cannot find any record of it, though they look so damned alike it's uncanny. But... it feels as though she keeps Catherine's memory alive for me."
"Oh, Malloryn." Isabella reached for him, leaning up on her toes to kiss him, sympathy in her eyes.
He turned away, and her lips fell upon his cheek, pausing there as she felt his denial.
"Isabella, I can't. I'm getting married tomorrow." His voice tightened. "This does no good to either of us."
