Inflict his presence? Didn’t he know his merest word was sweeter than music?
“This is good-bye, then?” she whispered, hoping against hope she’d discern some sign of relenting. There was nothing. Just stern implacability and what looked like impatience to bring this awkward encounter to a swift end.
She’d faced him down in this library once before when he’d been determined to send her away. On that occasion, she’d prevailed. This time it was clear that she’d lost. The knowledge struck like a blow, threatening to knock her to the ground.
“Farewell, Sidonie.”
“Will you… will you kiss me one last time?” she asked shakily.
His flash of irritation made her cringe. “No.”
She approached the desk, clumsily tugging the signet ring from her finger. If they never saw each other again, he should have it. It didn’t belong to her. Very gently, she placed the ring on the blotter before him. The ruby shone like blood against the dark green leather. He didn’t move to touch it, but neither did he suggest she keep it.
For a long time she studied him, imprinting every last detail on her mind. She struggled to tell herself that the war wasn’t over, that she could fight again and perhaps win. She didn’t believe it. “God keep you, Jonas.”
She turned to collect the candelabra and took a step. Another. Her feet felt weighted with lead. The door seemed ten miles away across rocky, difficult terrain. She sucked in a breath and forced herself to take another step.
That’s all she needed. One step after another. This year. Next year. Through a barren lifetime.
One step. Another step. Soon, she’d be in the hall. Then upstairs. Then in the dressing room. Tomorrow she’d head back to empty, echoing Merrick House. It was a purely mathematical issue, surely. Her heart might break but if she kept walking, eventually she’d escape this room.
At last she reached the door. She touched the handle. It turned easily and the door swung open. The world continued on its clockwork way, even if Sidonie Merrick’s soul was sucked dry and barren as the Sahara.
She fought the urge to turn and beg Jonas to reconsider, to think of their child, to let his love speak rather than his fear that she’d wrong him. Better to retain a shred of pride. Better to leave him with the impression that she was strong enough to endure. Better not to be a pathetic, weeping woman pleading with him to stay with her.
One more step and she’d be in the hall, cold and dark like a foretaste of the coming years. She reached to pull the door shut and heard something. A bump. A thud. But soft. Perhaps only a quiver in the air.
She frowned and turned slowly back toward the library. Jonas stood behind the desk. He was pale, paler than he’d been all night, and that erratic muscle jumped and jerked in his cheek.
“Jonas?” Although what was the point of spinning out the agony?
“Go,” he gritted out. The silver eyes were blind and his right hand fisted so hard around something that it shook. She needed a second to realize the ruby ring no longer lay on the blotter.
“Oh, my beloved,” she said in a raw voice she didn’t recognize. “Don’t do this to yourself.”
In a few swift steps, she covered the distance between them. She set the candelabra on the desk. She’d need both hands to take hold of her destiny.
“Don’t touch me,” he said hoarsely, backing away.
Recklessly he’d let her glimpse his despair. Everything she wanted hovered so close, she could taste it. Abandoning him to his isolation was the worst thing she could do. “It’s too late, my darling. I’m not leaving.”
“You must.”
“You’ve been a fool, Jonas.” Tears blurred her vision and she smiled. “So have I. It’s time to stop this nonsense and start our life together.”
She watched him struggle to repair his defenses. “You make a lot of assumptions.” He stood against the wall now. Unless he pushed her out of the way, he wasn’t going anywhere.
“Don’t I just?” She cradled his dear, scarred face between her palms. He tried to break free, but she didn’t release him. “Kiss me, Jonas.”
“No.” He raised his hands to remove her from his path but at the last minute didn’t touch her.
Her smile broadened, although her heart ached for him. Her betrayals were only the most recent of hundreds of betrayals, large and small, starting with his father, that had taught him to mistrust love, hope, and happiness.
She meant to teach him otherwise.
Thank God and every angel who offered sinners a second chance, she had an inkling she’d get her opportunity. No matter how he fought. No matter how near she’d come to letting him dismiss her. “Then I’ll kiss you.”
She stepped so near, her breasts skimmed his chest. Immediately her nipples puckered and her blood swirled with need. She ignored the siren call of pleasure. This battle wasn’t about desire. Desire they’d always had. This battle was about trust which needed time to build. A lifetime.