“Ah,” he said, holding a finger up between them. “But that’s not all you are, is it? There’s vulnerability beneath. And you hide that.”
She smacked his finger away, the insolent man.
“So what?” she demanded. “Everyone hides things.”
“But you,” he pressed, “are hiding that you’re afraid.”
She reared away from him. “I am not,” she protested, straightening her spine so that he wasn’t looming over her quite so. He gave her a smug, knowing look. “Fine,” she snapped. “But if I’m afraid, then you are, too.”
His protest was no more believable than hers.
“Me, afraid?” he dissembled. “I’ve been to war, Phoebe. I’ve seen men die in horrific ways. I’m not afraid of anything.”
“Nobody is immune to fear, Aaron,” she said, grabbing at his shoulder, preventing him from turning further away from her.
He didn’t resist her grip, but he didn’t give in, either.
“I am,” he said. “I have to be.”
Phoebe felt something inside her crumble, like it had been crushed inside a fist.
She stood, letting her hand fall from his shoulder.
“I don’t know why you bothered to marry me, then, Aaron,” she said, her voice sounding damp and desperate. “If you don’t needany help, and you don’t want any companionship, I don’t know what use I am to you. I’ll just go.”
She turned, feeling tears prickling at her eyes as she went. This did feel like a closing door after all, but she didn’t know how to keep it prised open. She didn’t know if she ought to even try.
And then, just as she could feel the last bits of hope dropping away, Aaron’s hand reached out and grasped her around the wrist.
She looked down at where he was touching her, then let her gaze travel up to his face. There was something… unprotected there. Something desperate and naked and—no matter what he protested—afraid.
That look settled something inside her. He might not know what to do any more than she did, but at least she wasn’t alone.
“Don’t you dare go,” he said.
He paused just long enough to confirm that she wasn’t still trying to get away from him. She appreciated that more than words could say—and recognizing that made her wonder if perhaps she hadn’t been going about this all wrong. Perhaps she had been wrong to try to force the words when words had never been the thing that worked between them.
He gave her one quick tug, and she went along. And then she was on his lap.
“Don’t go,” he said again.
“I won’t,” she told him.
And then he was kissing her, and at least for the moment, everything was right between them.
CHAPTER 22
“Ijust wanted you to know,” Phoebe panted from her position astride her husband, “that if you try to push me away after this, I will stab you.”
“I understand,” Aaron said as he sucked a kiss against her neck.
“I offered to go away,” Phoebe added, even though she was having an extremely difficult time focusing while he pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses to her skin. “But you said no. So now, I am not going.”
“You actually can’t go,” he argued, nuzzling his nose behind her ear. “We’re married.”
“You say that now,” she noted as he grasped her bottom, “but you’ve changed your mind before. But this time, I will stab you.”
“I’ve been stabbed before,” he said, which would have alarmed Phoebe more if she weren’t so fully distracted.
