Chapter 42

42

Edward

"Don’t ask that of me… Yet." I tighten my fingers around the steering wheel. Haven’t I unbent enough? Haven’t I shared more with her than with anyone else, including Ava? Except perhaps, Baron. He knew the boy I was. She knows the man I’ve become. I’ve allowed her a peek into my thoughts, I’ve confessed to having feelings for her. What more does she want?

"I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed you." She begins to pull her hand back, but I hold onto it. I slide my fingers through hers and she seems to relax a little. "I never thought you’d ever come out and tell me you have feelings for me, and I know how difficult that must be for you."

"Do you?" I ask, not because I don’t believe her, but because I’m genuinely curious. Could this woman understand, when I’ve tried and failed at that task so many times myself?

"Yes." She nods. "Yes, I do. You think I’m young and naive, but I am wise in the ways of the world. I saw how it tore my father apart when my mother died. How he tried to do his best when he married my stepmother. How he hoped to replace the mother-shaped hole in my life and the wife-shaped one in his with another family, despite knowing it would never work. She was gone, and nothing we did could alleviate the pain that was left behind. And when he realized he had only worsened the situation, he retreated into his business. He poured his love, his feelings, his desires into it… Which is why I couldn’t say no when he asked for my help to save it."

My shoulder muscles stiffen.

"He replaced my mother with his work, with building this empire which he was going to hand over to someone else one day, anyway. Not me or my half-sisters, because we weren’t interested in running it, but to a stranger. And when I realized that it would be you, it felt right."

I release my hold on her hand and place it back on the wheel. It was wrong. I shouldn’t have done it, but how can I tell her that? When we’re beginning to establish the foundations of a fragile trust that we’ll need if we're going to build this marriage? No, I shouldn’t tell her the truth behind what happened yet. Not until I’m sure she’ll never leave me.

"I met you and knew you were the one. Okay, not me, but my subconscious knew. And I fought it because I was all set for an arranged marriage, after all. But when my father said he wanted me to marry you, I knew it was a sign. All the pieces were falling into place. Of course, it had to be you to run my father’s company. It was always you, Eddie."

I’m aware of her gaze on my profile, of the yearning in her features, of the love that shines in her eyes and, like a coward, I don’t turn. If I do, I'll be lost. If I do, all will be lost. If I do, I’ll have to confess to her everything that I set in place to bring us here. And I’m not ready yet. She’s not ready yet. I need to find a way to tie her to me, so she’ll never leave. I need some kind of assurance that when I share the extent of my machinations, she won’t have a choice but to look past it. I need a guarantee, but what?

The silence stretches. I’m aware when she finally turns to look forward. She places her hands in her lap. A few more miles pass, we pass a road sign, she looks at it, then turns to me. "We’re going to Cornwall?"

"Penzance." I nod.

"I’ve always wanted to go there," she exclaims.

"It’s one of my favorite places," I murmur. Another thing I’ve never told anyone. See, I’m sharing more of myself.

"The scenery is so beautiful." She gazes at the forests we’re passing by. We’ve been driving steadily since we left London. After we cross East Devon, I turn onto a B road, and the scenery grows more wild, more untamed. There’s a ruggedness and yet, a desolation, to the terrain that resonates with that darkness I’m no longer able to hide.

I glance toward her. "It is."

She turns, and our eyes meet.

"I want you to know, I’m on birth control. I decided to get a prescription when I realized we were getting married."

Something streaks across the corner of my vision. I hit the brakes, turn to face forward, and the car screeches to a halt. The impact throws me against my seatbelt. I know she’s wearing her seatbelt because I checked before we left, but it doesn’t stop me from throwing my arm out in front of her.

There’s another flash of white as the rabbit disappears into the undergrowth.

"You okay?" I turn to find the color has leached from her features. Her shoulders tremble. I unhook my seatbelt, reach over and take her in my arms. "You’re good. I’ll never let anything happen to you."

She nods against my shoulder. "Wh-what happened?"

"A rabbit ran across the road. I stopped in time."

"Oh, thank god." She burrows deeper into my chest. I tuck her head under my chin and breathe in her scent. My heart thunders in my chest, echoing hers.

"I’m glad you didn’t hit it," she says softly.

"You sure you’re okay?"

"Yes." Her voice sounds steadier. I hold her for a few seconds more, then release her and scrutinize her features.

"I promise, I’m fine." She half smiles.

I reach for the bottle of water and hold it out. She takes it from me, screws open the top, and takes a sip. Some of the water slips down her chin, and before I can stop myself, I wipe it off.

She flushes a little, and says, "Thanks." She hands it back to me, and I take a few gulps. I put it aside, then take another deep breath.

That scared me more than I’d like to admit. If something had happened to her, if she’d been hurt—my heart crashes into my ribcage and sweat breaks out on my brow—I wouldn't have been able to live with myself. But she’s fine; nothing happened to her. And I intend to make sure it stays that way.

I turn to her. "Ready to go?"