“What do you want, Reggie?” She said his name slowly, seductively. She could not possibly be more enticing.
“Do you want my kiss?” he demanded.
He felt her smile against his own, and reveled in the moment she wrapped her hands around his bowed neck and thrust herself up on her toes.
Finally!
He tightened his grip—only to have her pull away and peer around his shoulder.
“Is there something wrong?” he said. “Why does it feel colder in here?”
“She’s here,” Siân whispered. “Over there.”
Reggie turned his head slowly, but he saw nothing where she indicated with her chin.
However, Siân’s eyes were wide with fright, and her trembling hands gripped his arms.
Of course, there could be no ghost, and she wanted to only stop the kiss. And her trembling could simply be because their clothes were damp, and it was cold in here. But none of that mattered; he wanted to protect her, even if it was just against legends and imaginations.
So he kept his arms around her even as her attention was taken up by a dark corner. Charles didn’t love her, but Reggie knew he was halfway there already. And he couldn’t lie to her any longer. Not when she didn’t stiffen or protest with his holding her; not when she gripped his arm and held on to it as if she needed him to hold her.
“Siân, I have a confession,” he said low and close to her ear.
Chapter Eight
“Oh my word,”Siân whispered. “She swung her head and is staring right at us. How can you not see her?”
Maybe it was better for Reggie that he couldn’t see her. He wasn’t plagued by terror like she was. Or…
She took stock of herself. She wasn’t terrorized seeing the woman floating there. She was frightened, and if Reggie wasn’t holding her, she’d be running toward her horse. Why couldn’t she have had an arranged marriage withthisman?
“I know this isn’t good timing, but that kiss—” He shook his head as if to dislodge the memory.
She wouldn’t, ever, forget that almost-kiss. She did want this man. Wanted him as she’d never wanted Charles, which was awful and wonderful. Charles was her childhood friend, and a way out of a house that wasn’t a home anymore with Eryl there. Charles was never the love of her life, and yet she would have married him because she had no other choice.
She wanted her choice to be Reggie, whom she was mostly in love with. How could she not be when he shifted his hold so he was partway in front of her? He was comforting and protecting her from a ghost he could not see. When had anyone done such a thing for her?
“I think I have something to confess as well.” She’d tell him her feelings, all in front of this floating woman, and let Fate decide the rest.
He curled his finger under her chin so she had to look at him and not the ghost.
“I don’t think this is wise—” She stopped her warning because in Reggie’s eyes was something warm like love, and dismal like regret. “This is more than the ghost, isn’t it?” She felt every bit of the cold.
“It’s just the dark and the wind.”
“I think she’s listening, and waiting,” she said. “I think she knows you need to tell me something and I won’t like it.”
“You’re not going to like it, but I hope you will.”
“That makes no sense.”
“I need to tell you first.”
She wasn’t certain she wanted to hear it. There was a connection between them, and she didn’t want it to end. Everything about his demeanor now suggested she might regret it.
He released his hold against her chin, and she looked back at the corner. The woman was still floating there. Should she…say something to her?
“Charles doesn’t deserve you.”
