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A Passion For Him Part 21

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"Have you nothing to say?" he asked quietly. "No questions to ask? No insults to hurl?"

A hundred words struggled to leave her mouth, and three very precious ones, but she leashed them tightly, unwilling to bare the depth of her pain. She stared at a small, square painting of a lake that adorned the wall. Her lower lip quivered, and she bit it to hide the telltale movement.

"My body has been inside yours," he said hoa.r.s.ely. "My heart beats in your breast. Can you not at least look at me, if you will not speak to me?"

Her silent reply was the tears that flowed in a steady, endless stream.

He cursed and came toward her."No!" she cried, stilling him. "Do not come near me."



Colin's jaw clenched visibly, and she watched the muscle tic with an odd disconnection. How strange to see Montoya's maturity and polish within her childhood love. He looked the same and yet different. He was bigger, stronger, more vital. He was stunningly attractive, blessed with a novel masculine appeal few could rival. She used to dream of the day they would be wed and she could call him her own.

But that dream had died when he had.

"I still dream of that," he murmured, answering the words she had not realized she'd spoken aloud. "I still want that."

"You allowed me to believe you were dead," she whispered, unable to reconcile the Colin she remembered with the magnificently dressed man standing before her.

"I had no choice."

"You could have come to me at any time; instead you have been absent for years!"

"I returned as soon as I was able."

"As another man!" She shook her head violently, her mind filling with memories of the last weeks. "I t was a cruel game you played with my affections, making me care for a man who does not exist."

"I exist!" He stood tall and proud, his shoulders back, his chin lifted. "I played no role with you. Every word that left Montoya's mouth, every touch, was from my heart. The same heart beats in both men. We are one and the same. Both madly in love with you."

She dismissed his claim with a wave of her hand. "You affected an accent and allowed me to believe you were disfigured."

"The accent was a facade, yes. A way to keep you from guessing the truth before I could tell you properly. The rest was a creation of your mind, not mine."

"Do not blame this farce on me!" Amelia struggled to her feet. "You allowed me to grieve for you. Have you any notion of what I have suffered these last years? How I have suffered these last weeks, feeling as if I was betraying Colin by falling in love with Montoya?"

Torment shadowed his features, and she hated the vicious satisfaction she felt at the sight of it. "Your heart was never fooled," he said roughly. "I t always knew."

"No, you-"

"Yes!" His dark eyes burned with an inner fire. "Do you recall whose name you cried at the height of o.r.g.a.s.m? When I was deep inside you, clasped in the very heart of your body, do you remember which lover's name came to your lips?"

Amelia swallowed hard, her mind s.h.i.+fting through the myriad of sensations that had a.s.sailed her untried body. She remembered the look of the bullet scar on his shoulder, the way the feel of it had plagued her in some fas.h.i.+on she could not pinpoint.

"You were driving me mad!" she accused.

"I wanted to tell you, Amelia. I tried."

"Later, you could have. I nearly begged you!"

"And have this discussion directly after we made love?" he scoffed. "Never! Last night was the culmination of my deepest, most cherished fantasies. Nothing could have induced me to ruin that."

"I t is ruined!" she yelled, shaking. "I feel as if I have lost two loves, for the Colin I knew is dead, and Montoya was a lie."

"He is not a lie!"

Colin came toward her, and she hastily caught the back of a chair and pulled it between them. The st.u.r.dy wooden seat was no deterrent, however, and he shoved it aside.

She turned to flee, but he caught her, and the feel of his arms around her trembling body was too much.

Amelia hung in his embrace, devastated.

"I love you," he murmured, his lips to her temple. "I love you."

For so long she'd prayed to hear those words from his lips, but they were too little now and far too late.

Chapter 13

As her coach pulled into the courtyard of the inn specified by the outriders, Maria collected her hat and gloves in preparation for alighting.

"I t is a rare sight to see you so anxious," Christopher murmured, his heavy-lidded gaze making him appear deceptively slumberous. She knew him too well to believe that.

"I am relieved we have found her and that she was of sound mind enough to drag Tim along with her, but there are still the matters of Montoya and Ware to address." Maria sighed. "As miserable as my youth was, I am grateful to have been too busy to indulge in reckless love such as this."

"You were waiting for me," Christopher purred, catching her hand before she gloved it and kissing the back.

She cupped his cheek and smiled. "You were worth the wait."

The coach rolled to a halt, and Christopher vaulted down. As she accepted his a.s.sistance, she said, "I am surprised that Tim is not out here to greet us."

"As am I ," he agreed. He glanced up at the coachman. "Pietro, make arrangements for the horses, then unload Miss Benbridge's valise."

Pietro nodded and pulled away, taking the carriage to the stables several yards away.

"You think of everything," Maria praised, wrapping her arm around his.

"No, I think of you," he corrected, looking down at her with the melting intensity that had shattered her defenses so many years ago.

They waited for Simon and Mademoiselle Rousseau to join them. Then they all entered the quiet inn.

"I will inquire about Tim," Christopher said, striding to the counter. A moment later, he gestured for one of the lackeys at her side to join him.

Together, the two men followed the innkeeper out of the room.

"What is going on?" Mademoiselle Rousseau wondered aloud.

"Let us order food," Simon said. "I am half-starved."

"You are always half-starved," she muttered.

"I t requires a great deal of energy to tolerate you, mademoiselle," he retorted.

The bickering duo walked away, leaving Maria waiting with a lackey. She frowned as Christopher reappeared with Tim in tow.

Maria noted the grim look on Tim's face and moved forward to meet them. "Where is Amelia?"

"Apparently," Christopher drawled, "her phantom admirer has decided to step out from behind the mask."

"Oh." She glanced at Tim, who looked both pained and furious. "What is it?"

"They are speaking in the private dining room," Christopher explained, "with an open door for propriety's sake. From the sounds of it, it is not going well for the man."

"Why not?"

"When 'e approached me," Tim rumbled, "I thought 'e looked familiar, but I couldn't place 'is face. I t came to me when I overheard them talking."

"What came to you?" she asked, looking between both men. "Who is he? Do we know him?"

"Remember the pictures I drew for you in Brighton?" Tim asked, harkening back to the days of her "courts.h.i.+p" with Christopher. After a failed attempt to retrieve Amelia, Tim had put both his excellent memory and talent for rendering to good use by drawing images of the servants who had spirited Amelia away.

Nodding, Maria recalled the stunningly beautiful drawings. "Yes, of course."

"The man she's speaking to is one of them."Frowning, she tried to recall them all. There had been a drawing of Amelia and Pietro, as well as of a governess and a young groomsman...

"That is not possible," she said, shaking her head. "That young man was Colin, the boy who died trying to save Amelia."

"Pietro's nephew, was he not?" Christopher asked with one brow raised. "I f there are any doubts about the man's ident.i.ty, I am certain Pietro can help us to dispel them."

"b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l," she breathed. Pivoting on her heel, she looked for Simon and found him sinking into a chair. She marched toward him.

He glanced up and saw her coming, his blue eyes first sparkling with welcome, then narrowing warily. The smile that curved his sensual lips faded as resignation pa.s.sed over his features. She knew then that it was true, and her heart ached for the torment her sister must be feeling.

"Out with it," she snapped, as he stood before her.

Simon nodded and pulled out the empty seat that waited between him and Mademoiselle Rousseau. "You might want to take a seat," he said wearily. "This might take some time."

"Release me, Colin."

Amelia held back a sob by dint of will alone. The feel of his big, powerful body pressed so pa.s.sionately against her back was both a balm and a barb. Her nerves were raw; her emotions fluctuated between wild, heady joy and a feeling of abandonment too close to what she had felt in her father's negligent care.

"I cannot," he said hoa.r.s.ely, his hot cheek pressed ardently to hers. "I am afraid if I let you go, you will leave me."

"I want to leave you," she whispered. "As you left me."

"I t was the only choice that afforded me the opportunity to have you. Can you not see?" The tone of his voice was a rough plea. "I f I had not left and made my fortune elsewhere, you would never be mine, and I could not bear it, Amelia. I would do anything to have you, even give you up for a time."

She tugged at his arms. Every breath she took was filled with the scent of him, a scent that awakened her body to memories of the pa.s.sionate night behind them. I t was an unbearable torment. "Release me."

"Promise to stay and hear me out."

Amelia nodded, knowing she had no choice. Knowing they had to find some closure to this so they could both move on with their lives.

Facing him with an uplifted chin, she tried to keep her face impa.s.sive despite the tears she could not stop. For his part, Colin made no effort to hide his torment. His handsome features were wracked with painful emotions.

"I might have felt differently," she said flatly, "if you had told me of your desire to build a different life for yourself, if you had made me a partner in your plans instead of cutting me out."

"Be honest, Amelia." He clasped his hands behind him as if to prevent reaching out for her. "You would never have allowed me to go, and if you had begged me to stay, I would not have had the strength to deny you."

"Why could you not stay?"

"How was I to afford you with a servant's meager pay? How was I to give you the world when I had nothing?"

"I could have borne any livelihood if only you were there to share it!"

"And what of the nights?" he challenged. "Would you feel the same while s.h.i.+vering because we must ration our meager stipend of coal? And what of the days? Where we must rise before the sun to work ourselves to exhaustion?"

"You could have kept me warm, as you did last night," she retorted. "A lifetime of such nights...I would d.a.m.n the coal to h.e.l.l if my bed was warmed by you. And the days. The pa.s.sing of each hour would bring me closer to you. I could have tolerated anything if it led me back to you."

"You deserve better!"

Amelia stomped her foot. "I t was not for you to decide that I was incapable of living such a life! I t was not for you to decide that I was not strong enough!"

"I never doubted that you would make such an effort for me," he argued, his frame vibrating with an edgy intensity so reminiscent of the Colin of old. "What I doubted was my strength, my capability to live in that manner!"

"You did not even try!"

"I couldn't." Colin's voice grew more impa.s.sioned. "How could I bear looking at your cracked and reddened hands? How could I bear the tears that would come in the unguarded minutes when you longed for a moment's comfort?""Love requires sacrifice."

"Not when the entirety of the sacrifice is made by you. I could not live with myself knowing that my selfishness brought you to an unhappy end."

"You don't understand." Her hand lifted to cover her heart. "I would have been happy as long as I had you."

"And I would have hated myself."

"I see that now." Grieving anew, Amelia wondered how she could have been so wrong about their love for each other. "I f we had never met, you would have been happy with the life you had, wouldn't you?"

"Amelia-"

"Your discontent stems from me and the expectations you imagined I had for you."

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A Passion For Him Part 21 summary

You're reading A Passion For Him. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Sylvia Day. Already has 571 views.

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