“My father left. My mother’s gone. If I were honest, since I met you, I’ve expected you to leave too. I…” She slipped her arms about his waist, laying her head on his damp shirt. “I’ve tried to keep things even. I’ve tried to make this a business arrangement because I don’t want to care.”
He sucked in his breath as he pulled her closer. “You don’t want to…”
“No, I didn’t.” She ran her hands down the length of his arms. “But I do. You had to be so dashing and gallant and run in and rescue me and then there is the fact that you’re so handsome and your body…” She didn’t finish, embarrassed by what she’d been about to say.
He leaned close to her ear. “I rather like your body too.”
That made her smile but then she thought of what she still needed to say, and the words stuck in her throat. She cleared it, drawing in a breath. “I plan to marry you, Bash. You know that. But I’d be remiss if I didn’t warn you that I believe I have fallen in love with you.”
Isabella wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but he stiffened, shifting away. “You can’t. We can’t…I already told you. I can’t allow you to bring my guard down.”
Those words ripped through her and she choked on her breath. Taking a step back, she wrapped her arms about her middle. “I know. That’s why I was going to leave. I can’t help the way I feel, and you can’t change your past.”
He shook his head, raking his hands over his scalp. “I need to think on all of this.”
And then he turned on his heel and left the room.
Isabella watched him go and she waited until the door closed to drop down on her knees.
Strong? She didn’t feel strong right now. She felt the weakest she’d ever been. And as for her future, he had just walked out the door.
Chapter Nineteen
Bash sat in his room staring into the fire.
Isabella had told him that she loved him, and he’d walked away.
Hours later, he still ached. Because he’d wanted to throw his arms about her, kiss her senseless, tell her he loved her too, and then make love to her until the sun rose on their wedding day.
But he didn’t dare. He thought of his father’s face when he was in a rage. He’d hated that face. The tension, the pain he knew would follow his loss of control.
He’d die before he passed on this legacy.
He was protecting Isabella. Wasn’t he? But then he thought of Mason. His brother had sworn that a wife would make Bash a better man. That he was supposed to use that anger to protect her.
He dropped his head into his hands, scrubbing his face. Who was right?
A soft knock sounded at his door. “Bash?”
He stood up so quickly that he knocked his chair over. It crashed onto the floor. “Isabella. What are you doing here?”
“Well,” she said with a sigh. “I would have come sooner but it took me forever to find your suite of rooms. Do you have a map of the place? I shall need it after the wedding.”
Wedding. He was marrying Isabella.
Crossing the room, he opened the door. “I’ll draw one for you myself.”
She stood just on the other side of the door and her lips curled into a soft smile, his boots in her hand. He’d left them in her room earlier and had padded down the hall in stockings like a schoolboy before he’d donned another pair. “Thank you. Always so good to me.”
The words made him cringe. He hadn’t been very good to her today. Was he hurting her even as he attempted to protect her? That made him pause.
“May I?” she asked, gesturing into the room.
“Of course.” He stepped back. “But just out of curiosity, what is the purpose of this visit?”
She walked in and gave him a knowing stare. “We had a lengthy discussion agenda and barely made it through item one.”
That made him smile. “Item one was?”