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“Nothing,” she whispered, grasping his arms, silently begging him to save her from the torment still raging inside.
“Did you have another bad dream?” His lips were against the skin on her neck.
She nodded.
“Aw, sweetie, you’re safe with me,” he whispered. “Besides, we aren’t in the tent.”
“I know,” she mumbled. “It was just a dream. A silly dream.”
“Want to tell me about it?”
A new chill hit her, all the way to the center of her bones. “No,” she whispered. “I just want to go back to sleep.”
“All right,” he whispered, kissing her neck and cuddling her close. “I’m here. You’re safe.”
She nodded again and pressed as much of her face as possible into the pillow, trying to wipe away the tears before they rolled down her cheeks, onto his arm. The nightmare had come the first night they’d slept in the tent, and had appeared every night since, stronger each time. It was her conscience, telling her that what she was doing was wrong. So very wrong. She knew that, but in the light of day, looking upon his handsome, loving face, her heart took over again, pushed the deceit so far away it only had a chance to come forward in her sleep. Where it tormented her.
The dream was the same each time, and she awoke at the same point. They were in Washington, or a place she assumed was Washington, since she’d never been there, and Seth was talking to a faceless man. Yet she knew the man, and knew he was telling Seth the truth. She was running in the dream, screaming at Seth not to listen, but she was too late. The way he looked at her, the hate and hurt in his eyes... Rosemary was there, too, in her dream.
Another tremble assaulted Millie’s body.
“Hey,” he whispered. “It was just a dream.” He shifted then, rolled her onto her back as he leaned over her. “Honey.” He wiped at the tears on her cheeks. “Don’t cry.”
The tenderness in his voice and touch had a piercing pain ripping at her heart. She had to find a way to tell him, thought of it day after day. But one look into those eyes that held such love, that showered her with a devotion she’d never known existed, and words refused to form. Truth was, it was no longer her deceit that filled her with fear. It was living without him. She not only loved him, she liked herself when she was with him. That was new. In the past, she’d often loathed herself. Loathed her life. A life she had to go back to.
“I think,” he said, rubbing his nose against hers, “I know a way to make you forget.” His hand roamed down, settled on her breast. “Forget all about a silly old dream.”
The ache inside her increased. She’d tried over and over to come up with a way to tell him everything. Her own selfishness was what stopped her time and time again. She’d discovered a love so strong she just might die without it, and ultimately, she didn’t want to give it up. Would spend the rest of her life pretending to be her sister if that was what it took.
Shame, growing stronger, lurched inside her. He was so honorable, so righteous and admirable, he’d never understand why she’d done what she had. Neither would her sister.
“Honey?” He tenderly cupped her face, his eyes searching hers. “Oh, sweetheart. It really was a bad dream, wasn’t it?”
She nodded.
Combing her hair away from her face, he settled down beside her. “Come here, I’ll just hold you until you go back to sleep.”
A desperation sprang forth inside her, and she rolled on top of him, grabbed his shoulders. “No. No, Seth, please, please love me.”
She took his mouth fiercely, almost violently, as a raw panic gripped her heart.
Their union was a hot, wild exchange that tore the bedding from the mattress and left her gasping, her lungs burning. Satisfaction was there, too, but this time, for the first time, disgrace came with it.
Unable to face him, she rolled on her side, dug her hands beneath the pillow. He covered her, first with the sheet and then the blanket, and then stationed himself behind her, holding her.
“I love you,” he whispered tenderly.
Drawing a breath that had the air wheezing into her burdened chest, she answered, “I love you, too.”
She was afraid to close her eyes, and the sky outside the window was turning gray when sleep finally overcame her.
Seth folded the covers back and, fighting the urge to kiss her cheek, eased off the bed. She was finally sleeping, had rolled over and snuggled close to his side just a short time ago. He crossed the room and pulled the curtain, blocking the rising sun from disturbing her, and then, assuming the thud outside the door was the basket containing their clothes, he donned the pants Mrs. Brewster had loaned him last night and sneaked out of the room as quietly as one of Per-Cum-Ske’s braves.
