Page 39 of Dangerous Exile

Sanity.

Tight control.

Always tight control, or she was two steps away from belonging in a madhouse herself.

She swatted away the tears that had escaped onto her cheeks and turned away from Talen, staring out at the rooftops. Gagging downward the spiked ball of rage stuck in her throat, she heaved a breath—it usually wasn’t that painful, ripping at her throat like that.

Her look glazed over and she forced her voice to as neutral a tone as possible. “But then again, my mother wasn’t insane when my father stuck her in that place. Maybe it did eventually drive her mad.” Her shoulders lifted. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything.”

“I’m sorry.” Talen had stood and moved directly behind her, making her jump as his words drifted soft into the air about her right ear. “I didn’t know. I never would have brought you there—much less left you there had I known.” The odd rasp in his voice wrapped around her chest, making her heart constrict.

“There was no way you could have known.”

“Except there was a way I could have known.” He moved to her left side, setting his hand on the railing, his eyes searching her face. “I could have asked you questions. Could have listened to your answers. I could have known what happened to your mother and this whole day would have been avoided. But I’ve been avoiding asking you questions for days now, and that is my own failing.”

“Your failing? No. That is ridiculous to put that upon yourself.” She turned toward him, her eyebrows lifting. “But why have you not wanted to ask me questions?”

His lips pursed for a long moment, hedging his reply. Measured. He was always so measured around her it was no wonder she secretly celebrated breaking through his granite facade when he smiled or chuckled.

“I had originally thought that the less I knew of you, the better. You were a job Juliet sent to me.” His mouth pulled into a tight line, fighting what he didn’t want to say. “But then I did want to know more about you—every damn minute we’ve spent together has only stoked that thirst. But I knew full well I couldn’t act upon it. Juliet sent you to me to protect. Nothing more.”

“You’ve wanted more?”

“Honestly, I don’t know what I want when I’m with you.” His head shook slightly. “I want to know everything about you. I want to know nothing. Neither is a path I should take.”

She froze, her eyes fixed onto his. “Why can’t you want to know more?”

“You want the thousand reasons why not? You’re an innocent. You’re married. You think I’m someone that I’m not. Juliet explicitly told me to keep my hands to myself.”

His right hand flipped up as his shoulder lifted. “I can’t afford the complications in my life that come with someone like you. Yet Juliet set you in front of me.”

His words stole the breath from her lungs. She was a burden. He’d been taking pity upon her. She’d known it from the start.

Except that wasn’t all of it. Every one of the glances that she’d seen from him when he thought she wasn’t looking. He’d stare at her, his jaw flexing back and forth. She’d thought he’d been working out how to get rid of her from the Alabaster.

But it hadn’t been a detached scowl in his eyes. It’d been heat.

He’d been thinking about complications. About whether she’d be worth it.

Her voice shook. “Which means that you were considering those complications?”

He leaned forward, setting his cheek next to hers, his words a whisper in her ear, though there was no one there to overhear them. “I’ve thought about your lips under mine, yes. My hands dragging down your body. Tasting your skin. Pulling your skirts up and slipping into you and watching your face as I do, the innocence in your eyes turning into raw heat. I’ve thought about how your mewls would sound in my ears, your gasps for breath. I’ve thought about watching the pleasure roll through your face, pleasure like you’ve never felt before—never felt what your body can truly do, can truly be.”

Her eyes closed, and her body swayed slightly, sending her leaning into him.

He didn’t pull away, his breath still heating her cheek. “I’ve thought about it all, Ness. All of it. All of what it would mean. And it would mean too much. You can’t handle what I want from you right now. And I can’t do that to you.”

He pulled up slightly and her eyes popped open, only to see the width of his chest taking up her world. Her gaze lifted, finding the scant moonlight reflecting in his light blue eyes. “You can’t do it to me because?”

“Because I respect you.”

“Are you saying you respect me like you do Juliet?” Her words were incredulous. No man had ever bothered to actually respect her. Certainly not her father. Certainly not Gilroy. “That we are friends?”

The slightest smile came to his lips and he bent down, farther this time, to where his lips were almost brushing her neck. “I have never wanted to do to Juliet what I want to do to you. But I do hold you in the highest esteem. Your spirit. Your courage. Your tolerance for pain.” The rasp in his voice rough, his breath stayed hot on her skin. “So just turn away, Ness. Turn away and make this easier on both of us. I don’t want you. Can’t want you.”

She stood as still as a statue for far too many thumps of her heartbeat, until she caught her breath and her forehead wrinkled. Her movements wooden, she shuffled a step away from him and turned to look down on the city, her right hand gripping the railing, the only thing keeping her upright. For a full minute, she’d begun to think he wanted her. Wanted her beyond the unwanted burden she was on him.

And she rather liked the idea of it.