Page 107 of The Silver Coin (The Colby's Coin 2)

At that moment, Royce loathed the assassin with a murderous hatred so powerful, he could have torn him apart limb from limb, killed him with his bare hands.

“I'm weaker than you b-believed me to be,” Brean­na whispered, in a broken voice that tore at Royce's heart. “I-I didn't mean to disappoint you.”

“You didn't disappoint me,” he returned fiercely. “You're every bit as strong as I believed. And as brave. Everyone has a breaking point, Breanna. Everyone. Most would have readied theirs long ago.” Royce's fu­rious gaze raked the bed, darkening as it settled on the mutilated glove. “There's no one alive who wouldn't crumple after walking in

and seeing that.”

Breanna nodded, her sobs beginning to lessen from the sound of Royce's soothing voice, the feel of his arms around her. “I was right about his being in the house,” she managed, her muscles relaxing as Royce stroked her back in slow, soothing circles. “Seeing the guards must have stopped him from going after Sta­cie. Instead, he went to leave me those...” a shudder, “things. And he found out I'd changed rooms.”

“The guards weren't his only deterrent. You kept him from going after Anastasia.”

She leaned back, gave him a teary, quizzical look. “I?”

“Yes. Your not being here.” Royce brushed his lips across her cheeks, taking her tears with him. God, how he wanted to comfort her, give her his strength. “Remember, the bastard wants you present when he takes aim at Anastasia. He knew you were in Maid­stone. So shooting your cousin was out. That wasn't the reason for his breaking in here today.”

“Leaving me his most hideous gift was.”

“Yes.” Wisely, Royce omitted telling her his theory about the statues, that he believed the assassin was delivering the remaining three figures, then striking.

Two of those remaining figures were now sitting on Breanna's bed.

Which left one.

“Royce...” Breanna pressed her wet face against his shoulder. “I can't stay in this room another night. I don't know where to go, what to do.”

“Stay with me.” He rose, gently easing her to her feet. “Not just tonight, but every night until this or­deal is over. I don't give a damn what protocol dic­tates. You're sleeping in my bed, by my side. What’s more, not only will Wells agree, he'll hand-pick the guards who stand outside our door. But sweetheart,” he added, trying to give her a measure of peace. “I don't trunk he means to break into your room again. This was his final appearance.”

Rather than relieved, Breanna looked more un­nerved, fear darkening her eyes. “That's what terrifies me. It's like this was a culmination of sorts. And, if so, he's about to shoot Stacie.”

“To try to shoot her,” Royce corrected. “He won't succeed.” He walked over to the bed, picked up the note, and reread it carefully “Something about these notes keeps nagging at me,” he muttered. “I'm going to line up the whole lot of them and read them togeth­er.” He turned his attention back to Breanna. “After we get you settled.” He went back, tilted up her chin. “Better?” he asked softly.

A slow nod. “I've never lost control so totally,” she murmured self-consciously, her hand fluttering over her hair. “You must have thought I'd gone insane when you walked in and saw me on the floor, weep­ing like that.”

“Stop it.” Royce caught her hand, tugged it away from her hair, and brought her palm to his lips. I thought we'd broken down that ludicrous wall of self-restraint by now.”

Her lashes lowered. “We have.”

“Breanna, do you trust me?”

Her head shot up. “You know I do—with my life.”

“Then trust me with your vulnerabilities, as well. I promise, I'll protect them.”

Breanna's eyes .misted. “You're such a wonderful man,” she whispered.

“I'm a man in love.” Royce kissed her tenderly. “And, by the way,” he added with a twinkle. “You have lost control so totally. You do so every night in my arms.”

She flushed, his teasing comment having the de­sired effect, melting away a bit of the past hour's hor­ror. “You're right.”

“And have you ever regretted it?”

“Never.”

“T hen don't regret this either.” He enfolded her against him for one brief, intense moment. “I'll never let anyone hurt you,” he said in a raw voice. “Not physically or emotionally. You have my word.” He re­ leased her, guided her toward the door. “Now, let's get you out of here.”

Outside, the assassin watched the room go dark. Chadwick was taking her out of there, hiding her elsewhere. It didn't matter.

T here was no need to invade her bedchamber again .

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