Page 46 of Dark Embrace

Killian made a vague gesture toward the closed door of the carriage. “Would you prefer to wait while I have Jones pack for you, or shall we proceed now and I can send someone to fetch your belongingslater?”

“Pack? I don’t...”I don’t understand.But she did. Killian meant to take her away from here. To bring her...where?

He lifted something from the seat beside him and extended his hand. She saw then that he held the pretty porcelain saucer that had been hers sincechildhood.

“You were in my room,” she said. “How? I locked it thismorning.”

“And the women who live in the room next to you haveakey.”

She frowned. “They letyouin?”

“They were in there already. They said you pay them for laundryservices.”

“I do.” Her chin came up. “Even with what little coin I have, that expense was justified. It is—was—important for me to look presentable at the hospital and my schedule did not allow for washing garments with the frequency my position required.” She paused. “But that does not explain why they letyouin.”

He smiled, a flash of teeth, the hint of a dimple. “I can be most persuasive when the matter is ofimport.”

“You consider me amatter?” sheasked.

“I consider you of import,” Killian replied, his expressionsolemnnow.

Sarah dropped her gaze and took the dish from him to cup it in her palms. ““How did you know that I would want this? Of all the things in my chamber, this is the one that means somethingtome.”

“I know much about you, Sarah. I know every subtle glance, the way you breathe, the delicate sweep of your lashes. I know the tilt of your head and the pull of your lips when you are puzzling out a solution. I know the set of your shoulders and the curve of your back. You are endlessly fascinating to me.” He gestured at the dish. “I noted your expression when you looked at it last night. I could see it meant somethingtoyou.”

His words made her heart race, and she had no need to wonder if he knew it, because he said, “I can hear each precious pulse, Sarah, feel each beat of yourheart.”

Impossible. Surely he could not. But somehow she believed him. Believed he did feel her, hear her. Believed heknewher.

She turned her head away, staring at the lowered blind, imagining the street beyond. As the fog outside obscured the street, so too was her future obscured. She could not see the path that would carry her into tomorrow, and next week, and next month. But she knew that wherever that path might lead, she had the opportunity now to be with Killian, to snatch moments of happiness. And shewouldsnatch them. Finally, she said, “Where dowego?”

“We go home. My home, now yours.” And all the arguments that tumbled to her lips died as he turned his gaze upon her. “I offer you the world, Sarah. Anythingyouwant.”

She believed him in that as well. “What do you demand inreturn?”

“Demand? No, I only ask. I ask for you. Your company. Your smile. Your eyes, dancing and pleased as they look to mine. Your intellect. Your valor. But mind me well, Sarah, you will need that valor. I am not aneasy...man.”

The hesitation hung in the air, a warning, but not a surprise. She had seen from the start that he had depths like a roiling ocean in the midst of a storm. She sensed he meant it as a warning of something deeper, something greater. But he was not ready to tell her.Notyet.

He shared something of import here, some secret that shimmered between them and slid away from her like smoke. She tried to clasp it, to see it clearly, but the meaning dissipated, and she was left with the certainty that his words revealed something she did not quitegrasp.

“Well, I suppose that I am neither meek nor submissive, which makes me a somewhat difficult woman, wouldn’tyousay?”

He made a soft laugh, his eyes glittering in the dim light. “I would have you only as you are, and no other way. The thought of having you by my side, of sharing the world with you is a heady temptation.” His tone turned muted and dark, his eyes bleak. “I have been alone for a very longwhile.”

“I understand loneliness,” shewhispered.

Again, that fleeting, dark smile, as though her words both amused andsaddenedhim.

He reached down and lifted something else from the seat. The yellowed magazine that held the story her father had found so fascinating. Polidori’sTheVampyre.

Offering it to her, he held her gaze, and she sensed that unlike her candle dish, he had not retrieved this out of care and kindness, but for another reason entirely. Cautious and watchful, she took the pages from him, her pulse speeding up, her thoughts tumbling to and fro as a strange expectationsuffusedher.

I am not aneasy...man.

I have been alone for a very longwhile.

You have not read Byron’sThe Giaour?… It is a poem about a monster damned to drain life from those itloves.