Page 46 of Veiled Yearning

Wait. My Chiara? She’s not—

Dammit.

Once we get upstairs, I lead her into the dining room, empty except for a worn wooden table and some mismatched chairs. It’s musty and carries the faint scent of old flowers, but the room is quiet and will give Chiara a chance to gather herself away from the others.

For a minute, we look at each other in silence. I want to hold her, but I’m not sure it’s the right thing to do. Does she want to be touched after that? Or was it too much of a reminder of her own captivity? Her own terrible experiences?

“Gav.” Her voice is tiny. “I was so scared.”

It’s a kick to my chest.

“Ah, Chiara.”

I have to touch her. So I carefully gather her into my arms, my breath held until she sags against me. Her face presses against my chest, hot and damp from her tears.

She feels so small and fragile, but I know she has a core of steel.

“I was scared,” she admits again, as she tilts her head back to look up at me. “So scared. I’m relieved… but—” Her voice cracks. “I feel guilty for being so weak. For waiting so long.”

“No.” I firm my voice. “Don’t say that. It’s not true. You are not weak.” Thumbing a tear from her cheek, I hold her gaze. “I’m in awe of you, Chiara. Not because of what you can do, but because of how strong you are.”

“I’m not—”

“You are. For so many reasons.”

Her eyes are dark, but a flicker of hope lightens them. “Gav…”

She’s so beautiful. Brave. Kind. Strong. The most incredible woman I’ve ever met.

Why am I fighting this so hard? Why am I letting my past define me, when the present is offering something so much better?

Assuming Chiara would have a man like me. I’m not the type of man women dream about. I’m not sure I can give her what she wants.

But.

If I don’t try, I’ll regret this for the rest of my life.

“Chiara…” I cup her cheek, hoping so badly she doesn’t pull away.

She doesn’t. Instead, she leans into my palm, her skin softer than silk. Her pulse jumps at the base of her throat, a siren-call to my desires.

But not now. No matter how much my body is coming alive for her, I have to do this right.

“Gav?” One hand flutters up, coming to rest at the back of my neck. “What is… I thought you didn’t want…”

“But I do.” It’s rough, restrained, gritted through a clenched jaw. “I can’t lie to myself any longer. You are everything I want. Your heart. Your strength. Your beauty. Just you. And if you’ll let me, I desperately want to kiss you.”

“Oh.” Her eyes go big, and her lips part. “You do?”

“Yes.” Doubt seeps in. “Unless you don’t want—”

“I do. I have.”

Oh. Joy explodes inside me.

And then, in a moment that feels like it lasts an eternity, I close the distance between us.

My hand moves to her nape, cradling her head, my fingers tunneling through her hair.

---