“Shh.” He ran a hand down the length of her hair. “Try not to focus on it.”
“How can I not? I’m stuck in this prison of my own making, watching from inside and unable to do anything.” Karsia gestured around vaguely. “I almost destroyed everything. Everyone. Worse, I thought it was a good idea.” She burrowed her face into his neck and Morgan felt the sting of moisture there. “I would have brought a war down on my family’s shoulders if you hadn’t shown up.”
“I don’t want you to feel guilty,” Morgan continued. “Sometimes bad things happen to good people. I have to believe, no matter what is going on inside of you, you are still a good person and would not have gone through with it unless under extreme duress.”
“Then you’re blind,” she said, but there was no heat in her tone. Only remorse.
He continued the embrace as he casually changed the setting. Something to put her at ease, he determined, searching for some nugget of information from her mind. Eventually he grasped onto a memory, a sliver of something from her childhood that had brought her absolute joy. Yes, Italy it was, then.
The blank space filled with life, trees and flowers blooming on a hillside gently rolling down to the sea. He brought up the color on the leaves, played with sights and sounds and textures until the landscape flourished and became real.
Inherently, he knew what she would like and what she’d want to see. Morgan built that world for her. He added a light fragrance to the air. The continuous sound of waves on the pebbled beach below filled the silence, coupled with the chirps of birds and a ubiquitous warm breeze.
Morgan set Karsia down and stood back to stare at her. Had he ever seen anyone so beautiful? She was classic, timeless, with impossibly vulnerable eyes and lips like plump ripe cherries.
“You recognize me?”
“Sure I do.” She sniffled.
“How much…do you remember? Do you remember meeting me?”
“A little,” she admitted. “I get bits and pieces sometimes. I know you smiled at me, when you shook my hand.” She held her hand up and wiggled her fingers. “Then…the car. You drove me home. Then finding out about my mom.”
“Anything else?” Morgan pressed.
There was a long pause, then she shook her head. “No. Nothing. Just a blank.”
“Hey, don’t cry. Wipe those tears away,” he said softly, using the pads of his thumbs to do just that. Proprietarily. He told himself not to be surprised when she let him touch her. When she leaned closer.
Karsia placed her palm over his to connect them. “I can’t. I feel like I’ll never stop crying. I’m a monster, Morgan. How can you bear to be here with me? Did I bribe you with something? Is that why you’re helping me?”
“No, you didn’t bribe me. And you’re not a monster. Do you remember what I said about negative thoughts? No, probably not,” he said with a soft chuckle. “You have to try to be positive. I know it’s hard.” He kept a smile on his face to keep her calm, when the gesture felt forced. “Your mother wouldn’t want you to hurt like this.”
“You don’t know my mother.” Karsia used the sleeve of her shirt to wipe her nose. “But she would like you. All your handsome sensuality wrapped up in a scholarly package. She would have sat you down at the dinner table and tried to convince you she made the food, when in reality the woman burns everything. At least there you have something in common.”
Beneath them, a soft blanket rolled out over the grass and provided a cushion for them to lounge. It took only a thought and less effort than lifting a finger. He drew her down until they sat together. “She sounds like a nice lady.”
“She is.” Karsia’s face dropped. She glanced around, feeling the heat of the sun and trying to shift her focus to something, anything else. She didn’t bother to sigh. There were too many things to think about and none solved with a single great exhale. “What is this place?”
“Somewhere I thought you would like.” Wildflowers bloomed in a rainbow of colors, as many varieties and subspecies as there were people on the planet. “But it can be anything you want it to be. I thought the sound of the sea would be a balm. It certainly works for me.”
“It’s beautiful. Thank you. It feels like forever since I’ve seen the sun.” To her it meant he was trying, trying harder than most men would in his position. She hadn’t expected the carefully crafted details in his vision. The individual blades of grass were meticulous. He was a man who cared about others and their feelings, when she did not understand why he found himself personally invested. Still, she applauded him for his intentions.
“This would be the perfect place for a picnic. Can you conjure something? Nothing edible, unless you think it will help.”
He snapped his fingers and two gelato cones appeared in his palm. He handed one to her. Felt her laugh deep inside. “You know I won’t be able to stay for long,” Morgan said, hating to be the one to break the bad news.
Her lips twitched as she stared at the gelato. “Of course. There are more important things for you to do than babysit me.” Karsia shook her head to clear any bad thoughts and, with tears still rolling down her cheeks, held out her free hand. “I don’t believe we’ve ever had a proper introduction. I’m Karsia Cavaldi. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Morgan chuckled at the hastily constructed scene. “Morgan Gauthier. And the pleasure is mine, my lady.” He brought her knuckles to his lips and, unwilling to hold back any longer, placed a kiss on each one.
“I should tell you while I have your attention. It was sweet of you to ask me for dinner.” Karsia retained possession of his hand and linked their fingers together. The slight contact eased something within and a lightness came over her. Not nearly enough to banish all the dark corners, but at that moment it would do. “Italian food is my favorite. I don’t care how you knew, or if you did at all, but it meant something to me. The me you see right now. If I were myself I would have enjoyed it. I’m sure the wine was delicious. I can’t get enough of those plates of pasta. Or gelato.” She raised the cone in a sort of salute. “Not to mention you are an attractive man.”
Her face softened, her generous mouth curving and her eyes darkening. The pad of her thumb played over his skin and a quick jolt of pure lust took him over.
Morgan blinked. His mouth had gone dry. “You remember dinner?”
“I remember you asking me. It was sweet.”