Page 41 of A Curse for True Love (Once Upon a Broken Heart)

Yesterday morning when she’d met Archer in the hall outside her room, just standing next to him had made her feel as if she’d made a bad decision, yet she had still wanted to follow him. She had supposed herself delirious from lack of sleep. But she wasn’t delirious now. She wasn’t mad. It was just him.

Standing this close to Archer made her feel as if she couldn’tcatch her breath, as if her blood was made of champagne bubbles all rushing to her head.

“What are you to me?” she asked.

Archer’s eyes locked with hers. “Nothing.”

But it didn’t feel like nothing when his fingers reached down and he took hold of the sash that kept her robe tied together. He held it as if he couldn’t decide if he wanted to untie it or tug her closer to him.

“Why are you lying?” she asked.

“I thought we’d already established that I’m not very kind.” Archer tugged on the sash, enough to loosen the knot.

Evangeline quickly stole it out of his hands and pulled her robe tighter.

He laughed softly. “Am I making you nervous now?”

He said it as if he hoped he was. Or maybe he was just trying to keep her from asking questions. When he was this close, it was hard to think clearly, hard to remember why she’d chased him down the hall. There was something about Archer that made her just want to be there, with him.

She knew it was wrong. She was with Apollo.Not just with Apollo,she reminded herself,married.Apollo was her husband.

Archer couldn’t be anything to her. And he’d just told her that he was nothing to her. But he’d also said he was a liar.

“Just tell me one thing that’s true,” she said, and then she promised herself silently that she would walk away from him, and from these feelings. “I know we met before you rescued me at the well. Were you my guard?”

He worked his jaw.

For a second, she didn’t think he would answer.

Then he shook his head. “No. I’m generally better at doing damage than protecting.” He looked down toward the blood staining the front of her robe.

She hadn’t really looked at the cut that had caused all the blood since she’d first been injured. It was shallow enough that it had already closed. It would not need stitching. But the blood left behind looked something awful—sheprobably looked awful as well.

“You could never look awful,” he said faintly.

She looked up again. For a second, he looked almost shy and incredibly young, barely older than her. Blond locks of hair fell over his eyes as he slowly leaned in closer.

She didn’t know if he was trying not to frighten her away, or if he was maybe frightened. He seemed uncharacteristically nervous as he reached toward her cheek. He slowly took an errant pink strand of hair between his fingers and tucked it behind her ear. He was so careful, his fingers didn’t even brush her skin, but he looked as if he wanted to.

There was a different kind of pain tightening his jaw and making the muscles in his neck pulse as he stood there, holding her gaze as if he wished he could be holding her instead, crushing her to him like he had in her memory.

Married.

Married.

Married,she reminded herself.

She was married to Apollo. She was nothing to Archer.

“I should go,” she said. “My guards—they’re probably about to ring an alarm. I’m surprised we’re not hearing bells right now,” she babbled, hoping to find more words so that she’d have a reason to stay, even though she knew she needed to leave.

She imagined that there were still more memories of him that she’d forgotten. But now she was a little afraid of what she might remember, if remembering more meant feeling more than she already did.

It was hard enough to stand there across from him, not touching in a way that almost felt more intimate than touching. It looked as if it was taking all his strength not to reach out and graze her fingers with his. As if one brush of their skin might set off a riot of sparks or blow out every light in the hall.

She waited for him to walk away.

But Archer didn’t move.

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