Page 14 of Absolution
It takes less than five minutes to procure two glasses of Champagne, but I should’ve known better than to leave her alone for a moment when there are intoxicated men nearby.
She’s sitting on the edge of her seat, posture perfect and chin tipped back. Her eyes are narrowed on the man who’s made the fatal mistake of deciding to approach my fiancée.
His cheeks are already flushed from alcohol despite the early hour, and his suit suggests his imminent attendance of York’s famous horse races. Fucking drunken racegoers.
He hasn’t entered her personal space, but he’s hovering too close to her.
“Enjoy your day.” As ever, she’s poised and polite, but her genial words are a frosty dismissal.
I stalk toward the bastard, ready to shove him over the railing so that his skull smashes on the sidewalk twelve stories below us.
Or maybe I’ll shatter one of the Champagne glasses against the table and use the jagged shards to slit his throat first. I want to watch him choke on his own blood as he realizes he’s going to die for daring to breathe the same air as my Abigail.
I set the other Champagne glass down so that I won’t spill a drop—that one is for her, and he won’t deprive her of the drink that I bought to celebrate our union.
Suddenly, she’s between me and the dead man. Her wide, aqua eyes pierce through the red haze that’s descended over my vision.
“Dane, no. It’s fine. I’m fine.” She speaks in calm, even tones. “I handled it. He didn’t touch me.”
I try to step around her and snarl at the bastard, “Do you not see the ring on her finger? She’smine.”
He holds his hands up and takes a stumbling step back. “Sorry, mate. I didn’t know.”
He’s so close to the edge of the rooftop. Just a few strides will close the distance between us. And then I can?—
“Dane.” Abigail’s hands bracket my face. “Look at me. He doesn’t matter.”
A low, feral sound rumbles from my chest. I’m almost out of my mind with possessive rage. After what Stephen did to her, I can’t bear the thought of another man harassing her. It’s my job to shield her from men who would covet what’s mine. I will do anything to protect her.
Anything.
“I don’t want you to kill for me again,” she murmurs. “Please, Dane. I can’t lose you. They’ll lock you up.”
Her tender touch and desperate whisper harness my full attention. She’s my anchor to sanity, and I lock my gaze on hers. I draw in several deep breaths, and the fucker who dared to talk to her takes the opportunity to slip away to safety.
If I’m going to spend the rest of my life with Abigail, I have to learn to control myself. These new emotions she evokes can be as powerful as a riptide, and I need to master them.
I’m stronger than my most primal impulses.
I’ll kill for her, if necessary, but I can recognize that my reaction just now wasn’t proportional to the slight against us.
Abigail is safe and unharmed. If anything, she’s more shaken by my murderous fury than she was bothered by the arsehole who drunkenly approached her.
I take another breath, and my hands settle over hers where she cups my cheeks. “I’m sorry. I won’t do anything to upset you.”
She kisses my taut lips, my sweet Abigail. “Thank you for the apology. There’s nothing to forgive. You want to protect me, and I love you for it. But you can’t threaten every man who talks to me. Trust that I can handle myself. If I need you, I’ll ask for help.”
A chill slithers down my spine. I can’t be with her all the time. When we return to Charleston, I’ll have to go back to work so that I can provide for us. She’ll want space to paint without me hovering over her.
I’m addicted to her, and the thought of letting her out of my sight makes my stomach knot.
The last time I left her alone with a man, he tried to rape her.
She trails her soft fingertips over my furrowed brow. “I’m safe,” she promises. “I know you’ll come for me if I need your help.”
“Always,” I vow. Whenever she needs me, I’ll find her.
The thought is a small comfort, and I manage to relax enough to pick up her Champagne glass.
