Page 16 of Master of Games
She shook her head again, letting go of the soap, her eyes squeezing shut, forcing a tear to track down her cheek. “Even I think they’re hideous.”
His finger slid across her wet hand. “Show me. Just your arm.”
“No.”
“I won’t think they’re hideous. I promise.”
She pulled her arm from the water and from his grasp. “No.”
Then she stood up and fled the room, leaving a trail of water in her wake.
Ironheart cursed himself seven times the fool. He’d pushed too hard. He knew it.
But patience had never been a virtue of his and he wanted Tabbie to understand. He didn’t give a shit about the marks on her body.
It was time for him to change tactics or he’d risk pushing her away.
Tabbie was the kind of woman who could fill in a man’s gaps. Be his strength when he was weak, be his mind where his lacked, be his heart in a world where he’d all but forgotten how to love, if he’d ever known at all.
He’d seen how Tabbie had treated her best friend. Not only had she given generously to the other woman, Tabbie had put herself in harm’s way to protect the vulnerable Sophie and Sophie’s sister.
Ironheart didn’t know much, but he knew a woman of true quality when he met one, and he wasn’t allowing a few scars to get in the way of making her his.
He grabbed the soap and washed himself the best he could with one arm and then rose from the tub. Ringing the bell, he called a valet to come help him dress.
He could already feel his strength waning, he’d have to rest soon, but that didn’t mean he was going back to bed just yet.
He had a woman to woo, and as he’d mentioned, patience was not one of his virtues.
Leaving the coat, vest, and cravat behind, he searched out Tabbie and found her bathed and changed and sitting in the library, as she stared out at the sweeping grounds and then the ocean beyond. To one side, on the edge of the cliffs, a small building was currently under construction. “A penny for your thoughts?”
She snorted, turning her green eyes toward him. “They do not match this beautifully sunny day.”
He took that as in invitation, and moved deeper into the library, taking the seat next to hers. “Mine either.”
“What are your thoughts about?”
“How I’ve wasted most of my life attempting to punish a father who was never going to love me.” The words were absolutely true.
She turned to him, her eyes wide. “You win.”
That made him laugh out loud. “I have to know your dark thoughts first.”
She pointed toward a building that was under construction on the water’s edge. “They are building a new tea house.”
His brow furrowed. “The construction of a tea house is dark?” he asked, his brow furrowing.
Tabbie leaned forward, her eyes on the building. “The last one burned. My mother was inside when it happened.”
His breath held in his lungs and then stuttered out of his chest all at once, the realization hit. She’d been in that tea house as well. That was how she had been scarred. “Sweetheart.”
She shook her head. “Don’t pity me. I hate it.”
“I admire you,” he whispered. “Grit. Strength. Love.”
She looked at him then, more tears shimmering in her eyes. “I never cry.”
“I showed up at your door, kept you up all night worrying. If you’re emotional, the fault is mine.” He reached for her hand then, sliding his fingers into hers.
