Page 86 of A Night of Forever
“I was so worried you wouldn’t believe me either,” she murmured into his chest. “It’s as if Victoria takes joy in making me look guilty. I almost wonder if she’s still planning to have you kill me, so that when you find out I’m innocent you’ll have to live with the guilt.”
Arend’s chest went rigid beneath her fingers. “Damn the woman. I think you’re right. She knows about my past.”
He had been in Paris at the same time as Victoria. She’d operated Fleur de Lily, known Angelo, and known what Arend had become for that short period in his miserable life. He might try to fancy it up by saying he was Mademoiselle Boldier’s lover, but in reality he was her kept man. And the things he’d had to do to please her would shock even the devil himself.
If Victoria knew how Juliette had died, if she knew the guilt that ate at him every day…
Was she using his memories to taunt him into making a mistake?
He closed his eyes against the embarrassing and humiliating memories. “She knows about my past,” he repeated.
—
Which was more than Isobel knew. She pressed for answers. “About the woman in Brazil?”
“Yes, and more. She knows I have a deep distrust of women.”
There was more? She tried hard to control her frustration. “One day you’re going to have to let me come closer. It’s hard to understand you when you won’t tell me anything.”
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Believe me, you are better off not knowing.”
She drew back. “I don’t believe that. Whatever has happened in the past has made you the man you are today, and I happen to be falling in love with that man.”
His body went rigid. The silence lengthened.
“It means a lot to hear you say that,” he said finally. “I’m not proud of my past. Even the other Libertine Scholars don’t know about that time. If I tell them, tell you, you’ll never look at me the same way again.”
She didn’t believe that either. “You are scared you’ll lose them? Lose me?” When he nodded, she said, “Never.” Here was the moment, so she took a stab in the dark. “This has nothing to do with what happened in Brazil, does it?”
He gently pulled away but kept both her hands in his. “No, it happened before Brazil. I went to Brazil sick in my soul and desperate to lose myself in a place where no one would know me.”
So lonely. So hopeless. Her heart swelled with compassion. “I thought you’d gone there for the diamonds.”
His laugh held a tired, defeated edge. “Ironic, isn’t it? I went to Brazil to punish myself, ended up as rich as Croesus, and managed to cause a man’s death. But I come back to England and no one gives a damn. I have wealth, therefore I have no sins. Nothing of the past matters. No one cares what happened to me in the five years I was away.”
A flash of understanding assailed her.
“You feel too guilty to spend your wealth. You did not kill anyone in Brazil. Would Jonathan expect you to live like this? You told me he was a good man. He would have understood.”
He shrugged. “But I’m not a good man.”
How could he believe that? “I think you are.”
The edge of his mouth curled up. “You don’t know me well enough yet. That’s what scares me.”
This time she did not let him keep her at a distance. She moved into his arms and kissed him.
It was a kiss intended to show him that no matter what had happened in his past, she would stand by his side.
The kiss, as it always did between them, turned fierce. His mouth consumed her, and the familiar heat and desire rose within her.
He was expert at using sensuality to divert her. But not this time.
She broke the kiss and stood looking up at him, breasts heaving. “This thing that has made you sick to your soul—is it something you did? Or is it something someone did to you?”
The flash of pain that lit his eyes made her want to step back into his arms and comfort him, to tell him she didn’t care what it was.
But she did care. She cared because it still ate Arend up inside. He blamed himself for something, either imagined or real—and it appeared to be more than the death of his partner in Brazil. Until he could forgive himself, he would never heal. He would forever hold her at a distance, and his heart would never be whole.
