Page 87 of An Extraordinary Lord

No, notnow… “Again,” she corrected in a whisper, the breathless sound barely audible.

He blinked. “Pardon?”

“Again. That’s what you said earlier, when you were threatening that attacker, that he wouldn’t take me from you—again.” Her lips trembled with the pain of it, but it needed to be said. “But you didn’t mean me. You couldn’t have, because I’ve never been taken from you.”Because I’ve never completely been yours to begin with.

“I meant I wouldn’t lose another woman I care about.”

Instead of making her soar with joy, his words ripped her apart. “No, you meant Joanna,” she breathed out, unable to speak louder for fear of breaking into sobs. “Dear God, Merritt, after all these years…you’re still trying to save a dead woman.”

He flinched as if the quiet accusation hit him with the force of a punch. His arms dropped to his sides, and a stricken expression gripped his face.

“I’m not her,” she forced out hoarsely. “I’m not Joanna.”

“I know that.” The seductive purr of his deep voice landed with an aching tingle between her legs. “Trust me, Veronica. I know exactly who I made love to tonight.”

The rush of loss and sadness overwhelmed her, and she choked as she challenged softly, “And in the heat of the fight afterward? Who were you with then?” She drew in a ragged breath. “Because it wasn’t me.”

He froze, every inch of him tensing so hard that his surprise radiated into her.

“That’s why you ran after that attacker, why you left me alone—because of Joanna.” The guilt that darkened his expression pierced her, and what was left of her heart shattered irreparably. “You chose revenge for a dead woman over staying with me.”

“Veronica…” Yet there was nothing he could say to defend himself because she was right. They both knew it.

“You cannot protect the world, Merritt. No man can. Accidents happen, missteps are taken—people die.Goodpeople die. No one can stop that.” Her arms fell to her sides in a gesture of defeat. “And certainly not if you insist on chasing the dead instead of focusing on living. Believe me, I know that better than anyone.”

“I willnotlose another woman I care about because I failed to protect her.”

“And I’mnotJoanna. I’m capable of holding my own in any fight.”

“That’s the problem.” He touched the brass studs on the leather corset she wore like plate armor and admitted quietly, “If I couldn’t protect Joanna, a pastel-wearing society miss, what chance in the world do I have of protecting a fighter like you?”

His confession pierced her, so brutally that she flinched.

“They took Joanna from me. I won’t let them take you, too.”

“You can’t lose what you don’t have.” That reminder emerged barely louder than a whispered breath. “As long as you’re still clinging to Joanna’s memory, you’ll never truly have me. Not in your heart.” She placed her hand to this chest, and the strong pounding of his pulse drummed against her fingertips. “Let her go, Merritt.” The soft plea to be loved rose up from her soul. “And let me inside.”

Anguish cut deep lines into his handsome face, and his broad shoulders slumped.

“I can’t let go of her,” he admitted starkly, placing his hand over hers. As if he were afraid he would lose her right then. “If I let go, if I turn my back on her—” He choked off, then admitted the awful truth. “I’ve tried to move on, but always, I get pulled back.”

“I know.” She’d seen that happen tonight with her own eyes, and just like him, she had no idea how to stop it.

The enormity of all they could never have hurled itself at her with the force of an explosion, and she shuddered, the pain too much to bear.

“But I’m not Joanna,” she repeated hoarsely, her throat raw. Yet she knew it mattered not at all how many times she said that. His heart refused to let go of the past.

“Veronica—”

“I’m fighting tonight with you and the men. I’m carrying out my part of the plan.” When he began to argue, she cut him off. “I want to do it with your agreement, but I’ll defy you and do it on my own if I have to.” Desolation warred with her resolve as she admitted, “But I’d so much rather be fighting with you than against you.”One last time…

He gritted his jaw silently, as if his mind were racing through all possible options for a way to argue against her, a way to convince her to stay behind and let him protect her. He might as well have been chasing the wind.

With no other choice, he gave a grudging nod of acceptance and looked away. He’d lost the battle.

But she’d lost the war. The fortress he’d built around his heart had proved impenetrable after all.

She pulled in a deep breath to gather as much strength as she could. When dawn came, she’d fight at his side, the way she’d come to love. They’d end the riots, stop Liggett, and finish what they’d started. Then she’d leave London. And him.