She pushed herself back on the bed and began rebuttoning her blouse. Once it was fastened she pulled her knees toward her chest and hugged them with her arms. Tomas sat down at the opposite end, his back against the iron foot rail. To her surprise he reached out and put a warm hand on her ankle, tethering them together, reassuring.
“The more you speak of this Antoine, the more I am convinced he’s a total fool,” Tomas said quietly, his thumb rubbing persistent circles around her ankle bone.
“He didn’t love me, and that’s the end of it,” she replied, but she couldn’t help feeling a little empty. “He never did. And I wouldn’t want him back now for any reason.” She looked up at Tomas, who was watching her patiently. “But it might have been nice to know that maybe he did love me, once.”
“Sex isn’t always about love, you know.”
He gave a small smile, and his eyes twinkled at her just a little bit. She adored the way he was looking at her, appreciated how he was trying to make things right again, but she couldn’t quite manage to get there. “But don’t you think it should be?”
His thumb paused. “Obviously you do.” Then it started circling again. “Sophia Hollingsworth, you are incredibly old-fashioned despite first impressions.”
“I’m sorry…”
“It wasn’t a criticism.”
The whole conversation, rather than putting her off, was making her appreciate Tomas’s good qualities all the more and that was a frightening idea. She craved the intimacy, but it terrified her as well.
She was a mess, she realized. And she had been for some time.
“I don’t want to be in love,” she admitted, and the silence in the room was momentarily deafening. “And I know you don’t, either.”
The evening waned and the shadows lengthened in the room. Tomas shifted to the head of the bed and put his arm around her, pulling until she turned into the curve of his arm. She thought of the way he’d picked her up in his arms and a curl went through her tummy. Why did he have to be so damned honorable?
“You’re right,” he murmured. “I don’t want to be in love. But I like you, Sophia. I like you a lot.”
“I am afraid of spiders and can’t ride a horse.”
“Well, there is that.”
She rested her cheek on his shoulder.
“I’m not really good at anything.”
“You are good at trying. I respect that, Sophia.”
She wanted to ask him if he could ever see himself being in love again, but she kept the words buttoned up inside. The night had been embarrassing enough without bringing the topic of Rosa into it. She knew she should push away and go to her own room. The very thought made her so lonely her chest cramped. Tomas on one side of the house, her on the other. She was tired of being alone. She was tired of having to pretend she was strong. She had spent years following the rules, doing what was asked of her because she’d been afraid of being alone. Afraid of having that love taken away should she make a mistake.
Well, here she was, in spite of her best efforts, alone anyway. Except for Tomas. And he was making her see that toeing the line was no guarantee. From now on she wanted to be herself. And those that loved her would love her for that—not because she’d done what they wanted.
But oh, it was hard to let go. The backs of her eyes burned with unshed tears.
“I should go,” she whispered, knowing that if she were going to cry it would be better to do it privately.
Tomas knew he should let her go. He could hear the tears in her voice and he knew he should be running in the other direction. Slaking his need for her was one thing. Taking a virgin was another—especially one who felt that making love actually should have some ingredient of love in it. He closed his eyes, knowing he’d gotten himself in too deep.
The problem was that he knew she was right. When two people shared bodies, hearts got involved, and his relationship with her—could it be called a relationship?—was complicated enough. Making love to her now was out of the question. But sending her off to her own room felt callous and cold. Instead Tomas shifted his weight and lifted the blanket, covering them both as they slid down the bed.
“Don’t go yet. I don’t want you to leave upset.”
“I’m not.” And still she held on to his warmth and he felt her soft curves curl against him. He tightened his arm. It felt so natural, so right.
“Let me hold you for a while, then.”
She let out a breathy sigh and her head relaxed fully against the curve of his shoulder. Tomas felt something open up inside him. It had been so very long since he’d held a woman this way. Since he’d let someone trust him—since he’d trusted himself. Sophia made him feel good and strong. Protective and invincible.
Which should have been a wonderful, beautiful thing.
But as her breath evened out and she fell asleep, her breath moist on his skin, all he felt was regret, sharp and bittersweet.