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Setting his jaw, he searched for an alternative. “We have time. We’ll send word to your family that you’re safely here. No one needs to know if—”
She hissed with impatience. “Open your eyes, Gabriel! The Convocation will be coming for me. My father will be coming for me. Wizard Iblis will lodge a complaint. These things won’t go away. You must act to consolidate your resources, andIam one of those resources. You said you only thought about winning, well—think only about that now. I’ve said I want this in every way I know how. What can I say to convince you I’m willing?”
Gabriel rubbed his forehead, trying to think of a way around the knot of problems. What kind of willingness did he want from her? The thought immediately sprang to mind of the fantasy he’d nurtured, that they’d have a partnership, a real marriage.
“What?” she asked, searching his face. “You thought of something. Tell me what to say and I’ll say it.”
“I don’t want you parroting words to me,” he replied sharply.
“How do you know that I would be?” she demanded. “I may be utterly Fascinated by you, but I’m not an empty-headed ninny. Give me some credit.”
He couldn’t help smiling. “No, that’s the last thing you are.”
“Just tell me,” she urged. “Both of us, being completely honest.”
~21~
“It’s foolish,” hesaid, not quite meeting her gaze, reluctance in his voice. “I—” He broke off, then threaded his fingers through hers. “I’m embarrassed to say the words,” he admitted.
“Gabriel,” Nic said with deliberate asperity, “I can’t know what you’re thinking unless you tell me. Even if I’d been a wizard, I don’t have that much House Hanneil in my blood.”
He didn’t smile at her attempt at levity. It was a poor joke anyway. It would take a lot more than that to lighten this fraught tension between them. Gabriel had his magic tightly wrapped around him, only a few questing tendrils making it past his control. Her own heart thudded with a fear unlike any she’d ever known, something tied to feeling so emotionally exposed and vulnerable.
“I poured my heart out to you,” she reminded him. “You know I can never leave you—never will want to.”
He grimaced. “I know, I just—” He met her gaze, something in his face as raw and vulnerable as she felt. “I want you towantto be with me.”
Her heart skidded to a clenching stop. “I do want to,” she whispered. “I explained that—”
“Not like that!” She blinked at the outburst, and he shook his head. Blew out a breath. “I carried your miniature with me.”
Frowning at the change in topic, she shrugged. “I know. I saw it in your belongings. I figured you’d carried it in case you forgot what I looked like.”
He laughed hoarsely. “Not possible. What I’m saying is that it wasn’t your dossier that decided me. I saw your portrait and I felt… drawn to you. Then I met you, and it seemed like we connected. That night, it seemed hopeful. I rode away in the morning thinking that—in time, of course—we could have a real marriage, that you might come to…” He trailed off, searching her face as if expecting derision.
“Love you?”
He flinched at the way she laid it out there. “Yes. I suppose so.”
“Let me set your mind at ease, then,” she said, adding a smile she hoped looked genuine. “I do love you.”
The pained hope in his wizard-black eyes nearly broke her heart, as did the cynicism that quickly followed. He pushed up from the floor and sat in the other of the set of chairs. Everything in these rooms were in sets of two and spoke more clearly of his ideas of their marriage than any of his words. So many thoughtful touches, so revealing of how little he’d known about what he was getting into with her. It pained her to imagine him riding away with hope in his heart while she prayed to never see him again.
“I don’t see how it’s possible for you to be in love with me,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’d like it to be true, but I can’t get away from the suspicion that you’re telling me what I want to hear.”
“That’s how the wizard–familiar relationship works,” she explained as gently as she could. “This is what I’ve been telling you. I didn’t understand it myself—or I didn’t want to believe it was true—until I met you and felt the Fascination begin to form. Maman explained it to me, that I had a choice to either succumb to it or try to escape it.”
“And we know what you chose: escape. You didn’t want to feel this way then, so how can I welcome it now?”
“I don’t know what to tell you, Gabriel,” she replied, mastering her frustration. “Will it help if I tell you I regret my decision to run? I do. I had a beautiful wedding gown ready, one I would’ve been delighted to wear. I could’ve married you with every appearance of joy, told you that I loved you, and you would never have known different.”
“I don’t regret that you ran,” he bit out. “I needed to be educated, to know more than the appearance you would’ve offered, to know different.”
“Did you? I’m not convinced.” Maybe if she’d gone along with the program, they would’ve both been happier. “I love you with all my being, but now you’ll never believe in it.”
His eyes hardened. “Because that’s not real love.”
Nic shrugged, trying to look more carefree than she felt. “What is ‘real’ love? I don’t think anyone even knows. It’s a word we use to describe a feeling that can’t be put into words. And we use the same one for all kinds of love: for parents, children, horses, good wine, friends, favorite authors, chocolate cookies. Are you in love with me?”
