Page 64 of Dark Island: Rescue

"Yes, actually." His thumb traced circles on her palm. "You are never this excited about anything."

Damn him for knowing her so well.

"Maybe I've found my calling," Tula tried.

"I doubt it." Tony leaned closer, lowering his voice. "You love reading books, not making them or rebinding them. Did someone upset you? Was it me?"

She let out a long-suffering sigh. "Not everything revolves around you, Tony. You need to let go and accept what I tell you at face value."

Tula felt Tamira and Elias watching, no doubt picking up on her tension, the unspoken currents flowing beneath the surface of her strained exchange with Tony, who now looked offended.

"I just want to be helpful, supportive. You don't need to bite off my head forthat."

"Just give it a rest." Each word felt like pulling teeth. "I had a bad night, and I'm trying to forget the bad dreams. The rebinding helps. I'd rather think about that than the disturbing images going through my head. Can we please just eat lunch without the interrogation?"

Hurt flashed across his face. "Of course. I'm sorry."

The guilt that had been gnawing at Tula's insides turned into a full-blown assault. She'd snapped at him when all he'd done was show concern for her well-being. And she'd lashed out because she couldn't tell him the truth.

That she was going to leave him.

That he would think she was dead.

That their child would grow up without knowing his father because the clan could only save one person, and that person had to be her.

"No, I'm sorry." Tula squeezed his hand, trying to pour apology and regret into the gesture. "I'm moody and I'm taking it out on you. That's not fair."

He smiled. "You are entitled to your moods."

Sarah cleared her throat. "I have juicy gossip. Anyone interested?"

Tula listened with half an ear to nonsense about shenanigans between the servants that she had no interest in.

Finally, mercifully, the meal ended.

"Walk with me?" Tony asked as they stood.

Tula wanted to refuse, flee back to the library, and lose herself in bookbinding, but that wasn't her style. She was the type who met challenges head-on.

"Of course."

Holding hands, they headed to the inner courtyard. They walked past the fountain that was still being repaired, past the potted palms and flowering shrubs that he and Elias were adding to the planted areas.

Tony's hand was warm in hers, his presence solid and real beside her.

He might not be her one and only, but she cared for him, and she would miss him, and most of all, she would regret not having him in their son's life. For some reason she was convinced that the baby was a boy, and she trusted her instincts.

"I'm scared," Tony said finally. "Not about our plans—I mean, yes, I'm terrified about that too. But more about you. About what's happening in your head that you won't tell me about."

"I'm scared too," Tula admitted quietly, because that at least was true. "I'm scared about everything. Whether any of this will work."

The fountain was being repaired, so they didn't have the benefit of the sound of water muffling their words, so talking in code was necessary.

"You look like someone died."

Since when had Tony gotten so perceptive? The guy who hadn't noticed her pregnancy for three months was suddenly so attuned to her feelings that he could almost read her mind?

Someone was going to die. She was going to fake her death and leave him behind in this gilded cage.