Page 143 of Legacy of Danger
"About that..."
She slipped her hand away from his and pushed the ice pack around on the table with a tinkle of cubes. "You know what you need in your life." She sucked in a good, solid breath and met his eyes, like this conversation wasn't already a MasterClass in emotional torture. "Well, I know what I need in my future. I need a long-term and stable relationship. Someone who wants me for who I am. I compromised before. I'm not compromising again."
"Damn," he breathed.
Memorizing the rugged lines of his face, she sighed. "And no way would I ask you to give up what's important to you."
He reached over and squeezed her hand again. "You're asking me what's important?" The bark of his laugh didn't make it to his hard, serious expression.
"In a manner of speaking. But I think I've got the gist."
"Do you even understand what happened tonight?"
It hurt to swallow past the lump in her throat. Did he really want to dissect the whole mess? "Um, I had a front row seat to both the kidnapping, rescue, and attack, so... yes."
"No. I meant do you understand what tonight meant? About what's important to me." He rubbed the dried blood under an ear. "Look, my life in New York is good. No question. I have a lot going for me there."
Just like that, the elevator floor dropped out from under her. She pressed her free hand against the solid wood tabletop. Anything to steady her.
He leaned forward, startling her. "You know what's even more important than all that stuff back east?"
"No."
"This family. The people inside this house."
"Of course. They're your family."
He brushed a thumb over her lips. "Please wait. I wasn't finished." His Adam's apple bobbed. "There's more. It's you, Mariah."
"What are you saying?"
"You're going to make me work for this one, aren't you?" He barked a harsh laugh. "Look, here are all my cards, on the table. Do what you want with them."
She froze.
"I want you," he said. "You're what's most important to me. You, Mariah. More than money, more than my career back in the big city, more than fighting."
"Vaughn?" She exhaled the question.
"I want you more than all of those things. Do you think"—he hesitated, glancing at her then away—"that there's ever a chance of any future?"
"With you?"
"Ouch."
The invisible weight on her shoulders lifted by degrees. "Clarifying because of this morning and all."
"Good point." He scooted closer and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. When he tilted his head to look at her, they were at the same level. "We have a hell of a good connection, wouldn't you say?"
"Of course." Her eyelids prickled. "I care about you. But I won't ask you to change. And I won't change the person I am. I won't be hurt like that again."
"Shit, no. I would never do anything to hurt you."
"Contradict yourself much?"
"Okay, I deserved that." He laced her fingers with his in a loose hold. "I'm no good at figuring out the right thing to say. But if you felt anything... deeper... when we were together, would you consider trying again? Start fresh."
Her heart stumbled. Before she threw confetti, she needed to make sure she understood exactly what he was saying. "So you mean..."
