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‘I don’t want your apologies. I just want your honesty. But I can wait.’
She sniffed. Loudly. ‘So what now?’
‘How about we go to sleep?’
Hope stirred inside her, a tiny, fragile bud emerging amidst the mire of desolation. ‘Here? Together?’
‘That’s the idea.’ And then, gently, perhaps even lovingly, he pulled her into his arms so her cheek rested against that wonderfully hard chest. She felt the reassuring thud of his heart and closed her eyes. ‘I’m a patient man, Aurelie.’
She smiled against his chest, even though the tears still felt all too close. ‘That’s good to know.’
Yet as she snuggled against him beneath the covers, his arms securely around her, she wondered if she was the impatient one. She’d changed and grown so much over the last few days, but she wanted more. She wanted to be different in every way, and especially in this one. Yet with this—this crucial intimacy—she didn’t know how to change, or even if she could.
CHAPTER TEN
MORNING sunlight spilled across the bed, created pools of warmth amidst the nest of covers. Aurelie rose on one elbow and stared down at the sleeping form of the man she loved.
Yes, loved. She’d been skirting around that obvious truth for days now, because it was too scary and even impossible to grasp. How could she love a man she’d known for such a short time? And why would she, when she knew what happened when you gave your heart away? You lost not just the heart you’d freely given, but your soul as well. Your very self.
She knew Luke was different. She knew it bone-deep, soul-deep, and yet that knowledge didn’t stay the tattoo of fear beating through her blood. The memory of how absolutely wrecked she’d been when Pete had finally ended it, and how she’d realised she had nothing, was nothing but a shell, remained with her. Infected her with doubt.
She didn’t doubt that Luke was different; she feared that she wasn’t. Even now a sly, insidious voice mocked that she hadn’t changed at all, not in the way that mattered most. She’d give herself to him, body and heart and soul, and he would take it and use it and there would be nothing left. She’d be nothing.
And yet, despite that consuming fear, she still felt that baby’s breath of hope, and Luke’s steady presence, his arms cradling her all night long, had fanned it into something strong and good.
She wanted to take a chance again. With Luke, and with herself.
He opened his eyes.
‘Good morning.’ His voice was low and husky, and its warmth flooded through her. She smiled.
‘Good morning.’
He shifted so she was cradled once more by his arm, and she rested her head on his shoulder, breathed in the warm, woodsy scent of him. Idly he ran a few strands of hair through his fingers. ‘Sleep well?’
‘Better than I can ever remember.’
He pulled her just a little bit closer, that primal part of him clearly satisfied. ‘Good.’
Aurelie took a breath. And another, because this was hard. So hard, and as she took another breath she knew she was already starting to hyperventilate. She let it out slowly, a long, breathy sigh, and Luke’s hand stilled on her hair. He was waiting.
‘I want to tell you some things,’ she began, and deliberately he began stroking her hair again, his fingers sifting through the strands.
‘Okay.’
‘I think I’m ready to...to do that.’ He didn’t answer, just kept stroking, and Aurelie closed her eyes. ‘Not that it’s that big a story. I mean, if you’re expecting me to tell you something horrible to explain...well, to explain my behaviour, it wasn’t like that.’
‘You don’t need to make any judgements, Aurelie. I won’t.’
She felt her eyes scrunch shut, as if she could block out the truth she was about to tell. ‘You might.’
‘No.’
‘I told you I haven’t been a Girl Scout. Some of those tabloid stories—a lot of them—are true.’ She spoke almost defiantly now, daring him to be shocked. Disgusted.
‘I know that,’ Luke answered steadily. He was so steady, even when she was doing her best to push him away and pull him closer both at the same time.
