“I don’t get a tour?”
She looked at him as he leaned against the door jamb. “No. You do not.” But she noted that he sounded as close to the edge as she felt. The edge of what, exactly, she wasn’t sure, but the tension crackled off him just as surely as it did her.
“You do know that this house is half mine?”
“I beg your pardon?” She yanked the key from the lock, straightening her spine as she faced off with him.
“It was bought by selling my inheritance. Now, I will maintain that half of that should be rightfully yours. But doesn’t that make it at least half mine?”
Her jaw turned to granite as she stared up at him. Was it appropriate to tell him to piss off? “I suppose you’ll have to settle for the marquessate instead. How many houses do you have?”
His eyes narrowed. “But I’d much rather live here with you.”
Ahh, now she saw the angle. “Bennet. Can we argue about this after we complete tonight’s sleuthing?”
“Will we argue? Or will you just storm out of the carriage? Because right now, I’ve got leverage. You want to go this evening,which makes it unlikely you’ll stomp back inside and leave me…dissatisfied.”
“What’s the matter with you?” she said, her gaze narrowing. “You’re unusually surly.” But his last word shivered along her skin.Dissatisfied. She felt that way too. She could also addfidgetyandfilled with longing. But she also had good old healthy anger holding her back.
He let out a long, hissing breath. “I don’t know.” Then he shook his head. “I’m restless and I can’t stop thinking about us…” He let whatever else he might say taper off.
She understood.
She’d felt exactly the same. And the truth was, it likely wasn’t healthy for them to spend time together like this. While she understood that when it came to sleuthing, they were better together, the rest of their lives had been thrown into chaos with their proximity to one another. “There is no us.”
“There has always been an us,” he said moving closer. So close their bodies touched. “Since I was fifteen, I knew that I loved you. When I left at eighteen, I understood that my path, no matter how far away I traveled, would always lead back to you.”
“The far away part—that’s an important detail,” she huffed, but even she felt some more of her anger slipping. She shouldn’t. He didn’t deserve to be forgiven after what he’d done to her.
But even those words rang a bit hollow.
She was still so angry at him for leaving her. For not giving her a choice and for not allowing her to help. But underneath that was a different emotion: hope.
He was here. He was not dead, and Bennet could still be…hers.
The simple truth of it stole her breath even as another voice argued that he did not get a happily ever after with her after what he’d done.
“I know,” he said, and then he was crushed against her, cradling her close. She melted into him because she needed strength to face this conversation and damn him, but he’d always made her stronger. “I’m sorry. I should never have…” He trailed off, the pain in his eyes like a palpable force that stole her breath.
He realized that he’d made a mistake. That knowledge soothed a bit more of her irritation so that her hands slid up to his shoulders. “No. You shouldn’t have.”
“I wanted you to be safe,” he whispered into the dark and for some reason, tears sprang to her eyes. She could hear the truth in his words. He’d been protecting her. And he’d suffered for it as greatly as she had.
“And I wanted you,” she answered quietly and then cleared her throat. Neither of them was getting what they wanted. Those days were done. “We’re going to be late.”
“This feels more important,” came his husky reply.
But she shook her head. “All of our pain has been for this investigation, has it not? Our relationship is most certainly secondary.” It was those words that straightened her spine again and she took a step back. “We should go. For all we know, tonight is the night we find the trail that leads us to the end.”
“Of what?” he asked, refusing to let her go. “The investigation, or us?”
Likely both.
Bennet had spentthe last few days in one of the circles of hell. Limbo.
For the first time in years, Rebecca was tantalizingly close, but he couldn’t touch her. Not really. Not the way he wanted. And she was next to him now, but not with him.
The more he’d thought about the circumstances, the more frustrated he’d become. They belonged together. He slowly eased back as her jaw hardened in resolve. Rebecca had never been a woman who responded well to force. She was far too strong for such tactics. It was one of the things he loved about her. She always challenged him to be better. Work harder.