Page 70 of Forsaken Desire
“Princess,” he rumbled, and I opened my eyes. He straightened with a frown and yanked his suit jacket off, tossing it on the dresser. Slowly, he undid the button-down. “Were you crying?” He yanked off the shirt and climbed into the bed, arms curling around my torso until he nestled me against him, but for the life of me, I couldn’t relax. I hated how warm and comforted I felt in his arms.
Had Samantha told him how I’d reacted to her showing me the house?
Clearing my throat, I sat up.
“I’m fine,” I gritted out.
“Josephine—”
“I’m fine,” I shouted, and tore out of his arms, rolling to get away. He grabbed my waist, stopping me midway.
I expected him not to let me go. I glared up at him, hovering over me.
“Josephine,” he repeated sternly. The tone pissed me off.
“What?” I said mulishly. I was clinging to the anger at what I’d seen and smelled in Cierra’s house, but it fucking ached. Even so, that was only part of what upset me.
“What happened?” His tone remained insistent. At my silence, he narrowed his eyes. “I’ll ask?—”
“No one,” I snapped. “I’ll get over it. I’m just . . . hurt.” The anger seeped out of my voice, my lip wobbling. “I toured Samantha’s new house. You really like lingerie, don’t you?” Hisbody jerked against mine. Confusion filled his hazel eyes, and then awareness.
I squeezed my eyes tight. His silence said everything I needed to know. His past wasn’t something I could change as much as I wanted to.
“I . . .” he whispered. “I wish I had waited for you.” Anger flashed across his brows, furrowing them. “I should have protected you.”
His body almost felt stiffer than mine. I was taking something out on him that wasn’t truly his fault. Fate just recently brought us together. I didn’t like the hurt splashed on his features.
“You didn’t know.” I sighed and swallowed. “We just found each other.”
He only stiffened more.
My father’s face flitted behind my eyelids again. I couldn’t stop the tears slipping from the corner of my eyes.
“I’m just upset with everything.” I sucked in a shaky breath. “I know . . . nothing. Have you ever forgotten something? Where your car keys are? Where you parked?” I paused. “It’s like that, but imagine never remembering. Now, multiply it by ten.” He kept rubbing his thumb against my cheek. “Lucian, I don’t remember mydad.The one I killed.” My voice cracked, and tears shone in my eyes.
He clasped my face in both hands, and his thumbs swiped across the dampness.
“I’ll help you find out what happened.”
The determination on his face calmed my panic.
“But what if I do find out? What if everything changes? What if I change because of what I remember?” I exhaled sharply. “I could have been a terrible person. Iwasa terrible person.”
“Josephine—”
“No,” I croaked. He’d always tried to make me feel better as my mate, but the truth was the truth, and I couldn’t change the past. “I went to prison for killing my father. I’m not a good person.”
“Stop,” he growled.
He would accept me, but I didn’t know if I could accept myself. I didn’t know if I could accept the truth.
26
Josephine remained plastered against my side, sleeping. Her legs pressed against the length of mine, her entire side touching me. She’d tried to roll away a few times, but I hadn’t allowed it.
She moved, twitching and whimpering in her sleep. She’d been doing it for the last hour now, and she had refused to wake despite my attempt to coax her, but now her whimpering was intensifying.
She suddenly went silent. I exhaled. Had her nightmare ended? Her body stiffened as if she were in pain.
