"He needs to rest," Ian said.
Now, he thought, now she'll look at me. . ..
She nodded and drew a chair up to the bed, sitting silently beside Elliot, her gaze downward. Maeve went to Selena, touched her shoulder, and Ian saw the tiny shudder that moved through Selena at the contact
"I'll stay with him," Maeve said, and Ian could have kissed his mother for her thoughtfulness. "Edith will make you something to eat. You're too thin."
It was a long time before Selena answered, and when she did, her voice was throaty and raw. "I have not slept in two days."
Maeve bent down and kissed Selena's cheek. "I know how it is to be so scared." She pulled up a chair and sat down beside Selena. "Ophelia wasn't smart, that's certain. Although it was most romantic. Have you seen the oranges?" She took Elliot's hand in hers and scooted forward. "So, Herbert, how are you today?"
Selena got slowly to her feet. For the first time, Ian could see the exhaustion in her face, the purplish shadows beneath her eyes, the tiny network of lines that bracketed her mouth. The hooded black cape seemed to swallow her, leaving only the pale, pale oval of her face.
"I think he wants a watercress sandwich," Maeve said, looking around. "Edith?"
Selena backed away from the bed. Ian had saved Elliot's life; she knew it as certainly as she knew anything. He'd saved Elliot, and soon she would have to say good-bye again. Again.
Her family stood there, watching her. She knew they felt the awkwardness she had brought with her, and it
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confused them. She was not the same Selena who had left here; they didn't know how to treat her.
She wanted to tell them she'd missed them, wanted it so desperately, she felt sick, but she couldn't do it. The words, such little words, would open a dangerous door.
She turned slightly and looked at Ian, saw the pain in his eyes. She was killing him, hurting the man she loved with her silence. "Thank you," she said, knowing it wasn't enough, not nearly enough.
"That's it, Selena?" The words were ragged-sounding, harsh. "After all this time, you come back here and say thank you to me for medical assistance. For medical assistance?'
She felt fragile in the face of his anger and pain, so fragile. The strength, the resolve, the honor-it was all falling away from her. She searched deep in her own soul for something-anything-to hang on to. "What would you have me say?" she whispered.
Ian looked as if he'd been slapped. Then he crashed a fist through the medical instruments on the tray, sent everything clattering to the floor. "Out!" he screamed.
The family scattered like ants, scurrying to the door, disappearing.
Selena blinked up at him, trying to think of something to say, but there was nothing, nothing.
"Pick up your toys, dear," Maeve reproached him softly.
Ian lurched around the bed and grabbed Selena's wrist, his fingers punishing in their grip. Without a word, he spun toward the door and strode out of the room, dragging her behind him. In the hallway, the crowd gasped and parted.
He led her stumbling down the hallway and through the entryway, out onto the darkened porch and beyond into the rainy night. Across the grass, down the drive . . .
Oh, no, she thought as the moon garden came into view. Not here. Oh, Lord ...
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Finally he spun around and stopped, staring down at her through angry, pain-darkened blue eyes. Rain slashed at his face, wind whipped his too long hair. "What would I have you say?" he hissed. "Jesus, Selena ..." "Ian, don't."
"Don't?" He took her by the shoulders and pulled her to him. Her head snapped back at the force of the movement, her hood fell away, exposing her face to the cold rain. "What would I have you say?" He said the words again, only this time they were swollen with sadness. "How about 'I know there's no future for us, but I still love you'? Jesus, Selena. Look at me, touch
me, something___Tell me you love me."
She squeezed her eyes shut, unable to look at him. If she did, oh, God, if she did, she'd start crying and ruin it all.
How long could she keep her need for him in check? Another day, another minute, or not even that long? She wanted him so badly, needed to feel his arms around her, needed to breathe the masculine, familiar scent of him.
For a beat of her heart, she remembered his bed, their bed, their love, and a blushing heat crawled up her cheeks.