Page 110 of Stolen By the Duke of Ice
Dahlia wiped her eyes with her hands.And I think I understand now how to find that love within me. I have not found it yet, but I know the way.
She opened her arms, and her parents rushed to her.
Crying, kissing her, they seemed not to want to let her go.
“My baby,” Teresa sobbed. “I am so very sorry. If it takes the rest of our lives, we will make it up to you.”
“How blind we have been. Give us a chance, my dear Dahlia,” Andrew said his eyes red. “Do not forsake us. Let us show you our love for you.”
“Papa.” She kissed him on his tear-stained cheek and did the same for her mother. “Mama.”
Dahlia knew it would take a while for change to really take place, but she also knew that she would work for it, and she believed, so would her parents. It was still dark where she was, but finally, finally her mother and father were taking her with them.
Peter awoke in his bed. It was later than he had expected. When one day was exactly like the next, did time really matter?
He sat up, and the first thing he saw was Dahlia’s present for him. How many days had it been since she left? The days had notgotten any better, not for Mary and Claire and most definitely not for himself.
Bravo, Peter! Another day of getting what you want! No Dahlia, no green eyes, no light and fire, just a crushing devastation growing heavier and heavier in your chest.
He stared at the present again; Peter could swear that it stared back at him like a living thing. He was losing his mind.
Cursing, he walked to his desk, and, without preamble, he opened the present. It was her manuscript, the book on which she wroteThe Duke and The Aspiring Detectives.
Heart pounding in his chest, he opened it slowly. A folded piece of parchment fell on his desk. Peter knew before he even unfolded it that it was a letter.
Peter,
What do you gift a man who already has everything? A man who can give himself anything? But I have found something. Since I know how much you abhor my novels, I am very sure that you would not get yourself one, and so with pride do I give to you my latest novel,The Duke and The Aspiring Detectives.I hope this will suffice.
Dahlia
Peter could not help but smile. It was as if he heard her voice when he read her letter. Missing her was a constant ache in his heart, in his stomach; he could swear that he felt it in his fingers. Yet, finally admitting to himself that he missed her did not help in the least. He may have won, but what was his prize?
She may not be here, but her words were. Picking up the book, he began to read.
Half an hour passed, but Peter felt that it was a mere second. Perhaps it was because she had admitted to him before that he had inspired the Duke that Peter saw himself in the character. Furthermore, he saw Dahlia in the Duke’s bride and Mary and Claire in the two detectives.
When he read, it was as ifthatwas his reality. Not this one where there was no Dahlia. Staring at her closing words, he turned to the next page, hoping to find more.
Another folded piece of parchment.
His hands felt clumsy in his haste to pick it up. Peter’s heart beat faster in his chest.
My Dear Peter,
I had not wanted to tell you this—not until you had read the entire book and understood what I am trying to say with it. Simply put, I am in love with you.
Perhaps you shall call me foolish for thinking so, but I know that I shall never love another. I understand that you cannot love me back, truly I do, but I could never live with myself if I never told you of my feelings. I could never live with myself if I did not find the courage to tell you, to find out in some way, if I can have the happiness that I had only dreamed of.
I found love because of you. My love for you and my love for myself. And so, whichever way life may take me, I must tell you that you have shown me the way to finding love. Thank you.
Yours,
Dahlia
Peter read her letter over and over, combing it for every possible meaning. He was so engrossed that he did not hear Mary and Claire enter his chambers.
“Peter?” Mary ventured.
