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Is that what’s been bothering him so much this whole time? “Nathan, you weren’t responsible for that. You were practically cut in half. What were you supposed to do?”
“I know it’s an unreasonable fear,” he admits. “But I felt like a failure.”
I reach up and cup his cheek. “You’re not a failure.”
He doesn’t comment on that. Instead, he kisses my forehead and steps back. “Go on. You’re exhausted and it will be worse tomorrow. Get in bed.”
I sit on the edge of the mattress and give it a little bounce test. “Ooh, I think this is new.”
“I should hope so,” Nathan says, unbuttoning his shirt. “Archie died in here.”
I wonder if it’s too late to get a hotel.
CHAPTER 56
The moment the morning sky lightens, my brain stops sleeping.
“Do you think my uncle did this to us?”
“Jeez!” I press my hand to my chest to stop my heart from leaving my body. “What the fuck, Nathan!”
“I couldn’t sleep.” He’s lying flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling, barely blinking.
“I almost peed the bed!” Speaking of which…
I set my feet on the floor and head for the bathroom. When I come back, Nathan hasn’t changed position at all.
“Are you having some kind of crisis?” I ask, sliding back in beside him.
“My uncle didn’t trust thralls,” he murmurs. “Why would he turn to them to do anything against me?”
“What if he didn’t mean it like a bad thing?” I suggest, with the caveat, “If he did it at all.”
Nathan sighs deeply.
I scoot up close and throw my arm over his chest. He still hasn’t gotten a haircut, and a curl falls into his eyes. I would move it aside, but I’m lying on my only hand. “Maybe it was an accident.”
“I don’t think people accidentally put spells on other people,” He observes placidly.
“I didn’t think the thralls put spells on us at all, until just yesterday,” I remind him. “Or whatever day it was. I really have been keeping strange hours.”
He puts his hand on my forearm, near my elbow, clear of the “don’t touch my arm because it feels weird” zone, and gives it a little squeeze. “You can go back to sleep.”
“I’m up, now. Besides, how could I possibly relax with you lying next to me all creepy and tense?” I fit my head into the little crook in his shoulder where I fit perfectly. “Speaking of creepy, though, what about that housekeeper?”
“She is very old.” Nathan laughs, and it’s good to know I can break through his worry shell, even if for just a second. “Archibald was older. The bastard lived to six hundred, if you can believe that.”
“And he was your uncle? Not your great-great uncle or something?” It seems like a pretty huge age gap between generations.
“I was a late-in-life baby,” Nathan explains. “My parents were nearly two-hundred when I was born. Archie was the oldest son, my father was the youngest. I had cousins who lived and died long before I was even born.”
“When you put it into that perspective, I guess our age gap isn’t so bad.” I sigh. “Here, I was worried about being so much younger than you. For people like Harriet and your parents, we’re actually… sort of babies.”
“My parents are dead,” he says flatly. “I’m sorry. That was very blunt.”
“No, it’s okay.” I lean up on my elbow to look down at him. “Up until you mentioned them, I sort of thought you must have been created in a lab or something.”
“Because I’m so beautiful?” He grins, and damn him, he is beautiful, with his stupid stormy eyes and his ridiculous jawline.
I roll my eyes. “Because you’re like weaponized annoyance.”
He reaches up to thread his fingers through my hair, then draws me down for a kiss. The binding sparks to awareness and without meaning to, I writhe my legs together.
“You don’t seem so annoyed now,” he whispers against my mouth, and kisses me again.
How can I be so consistently irritated by this man but not give a damn about his morning breath?
I push myself up. The strap of my nightgown slips off my shoulder and he uses the opportunity to wiggle his hand inside and cup my breast beneath the silk. He idly strokes my nipple with his thumb, wondering aloud, “Do you think it’s really this spell that’s making us want each other like this?”
My eyes close and I whimper. It’s a miracle I can collect my thoughts with him touching me. “Maybe?”
“You said yourself, it doesn’t make sense for it to continue. You’re already pregnant.” He sits up and lifts my breast free from my nightgown. His lips close over my tight, sensitive flesh and I moan. He releases me slowly, letting his bottom lip drag along my nipple until the last possible moment of contact. “But I still want you. You still want me.”
