Chapter 20 #2
The protest dies on my lips. His accusation is nothing but the truth.
In my attempt to help these men, I allowed it to become a game.
The unrealistic nature of this entire thing is blinding me.
As “game” as Owen, Lars, and James have been, what choice did they have from the moment they’d poofed from their worlds to mine, they haven’t had any real choice in this.
As worried as I was about leading Davis on, didn’t I just do that to them?
Shoulders slumped, my arms fall to my sides. “It appears I’m the callous one. I didn’t mean to… I am so sorry for all this. You all deserve so much better.”
“I know it was not your intention. Perhaps you were a bit carried away with this whole thing.” He reaches out, his palms soothing along my arms. “It’s understandable. Please know that I bear no ill will. In fact, I think Jackson may be the true culprit.”
“Jackson is just trying to help.”
“I know,” he says quickly. “This situation is hard for me. I am not entirely sure who I am and what I am supposed to be here. I think it brings out the worst parts of myself.”
“I am sorry for all of this,” I repeat again, regret shaking my voice.
“I know you are, dear Georgia.” His mouth curves up. “I believe we both were carried away. I know I do get that way when I truly want something. Though, from what I gather from Owen, it’s how you wrote me.”
He’s right. It’s how I wrote Lord James, after all. His character is single-minded about everything. First, his thirst for vengeance, and then, about Lady Cecily. As much as Lars and Owen’s real life selves surprise me, James appears most true to his on-page persona.
“I should amend that statement. It’s not a something that I want, it’s a someone . Please know that has not changed. As unsure as this entire situation is, the one thing I am certain of is how I feel about you. I want you, Georgia,” he murmurs, his green eyes crackle with desire.
“James, I am so sorry for everything. For my wish. For all of it… But I don’t want to be with you.” I step back.
“Pardon?” His brow puckers.
“I am so?—”
“No,” he snaps, causing me to flinch. “Are you choosing Lars, because I will warn you that he and your brother are… friendly .”
“I know about them,” I say, softening my tone and body language to help calm him. It’s a technique I use with upset patients or their loved ones at SPN. I’m not scared that he’ll hurt me, but the storminess shadowing his features gives me pause.
“It can’t be Owen.” Hands on his hips, he puffs out a hard breath.
“What’s wrong with Owen?” Indignation fuels my glower.
“He’s fine enough, but he’s not me.” He pats his chest for emphasis.
“A woman like you needs more than Owen can offer. Perhaps it is why you wrote him first, you needed to work your way up to a man like me. A man who would match your passion, not be drowned by it.” He steps closer and I move backwards. His forward movement halts.
“Just because a man is quiet and thoughtful, doesn’t mean he lacks passion. Don’t underestimate Owen, I would be lucky to be with him.” My glare slams into him.
“It is him, then?” James cocks one eyebrow.
“It’s not Owen.” I shake my head. “It’s none of you… I don’t have those feelings for any of you.”
“None of us?” he scoffs.
“Correct.”
“I have not had my chance, yet.” He gestures between us.
“It wouldn’t make a difference.”
“Is this due to our last exchange? We just discussed this situation’s difficulty on me and how much I want you,” he says, his softer tone in direct contrast to the hardness in his gaze.
“I’m sorry.”
He studies me, the dark edge of his features seeming to relax. “I am, too. I had hoped it was me. It is why I assumed I was brought here. Perhaps, it was not for you, but because of you after all.”
A queasy sensation rolls in my stomach. No matter how I feel about James, he’s still here because of me. They all are. This doesn’t change that.
“I am really sorry.” I swallow the hard lump in my throat.
“No apologies needed, my lady.” Posture relaxing, he puts out his hand. “Although, may I still call you Georgia? That is if you are amenable to a friendship with me. If we cannot be more, I would like to be friends with you.”
Something akin to whiplash seizes me with his quick turnaround. It’s just like Thursday morning. He blinks between emotions, causing a dizzy sensation. But this may just be his single-minded nature at play. Once James decides something…whether indignation or forgiveness, that’s it for him.
“Are you sure?”
His lips quirk. “As determined as you have penned me to be, Georgia, you have crafted a man with honor. I would never force my affections.”
“Friends.”
Despite apprehension coiling my muscles tight at his quick rebound, I take his hand.
This is who he is. James does nothing with restraint.
Friendship. Love. His affair with Lady Cecily is proof of this.
Once he fell, it was hard. Still, the moment she chose the marquis, he stepped aside until he learns her choice was made to protect him from her father who planned to have him killed, rather than be with his daughter.
The difference is that my rebuke of his advances isn’t to save his life. The only thing I want is to help him.
“I will figure out a way to get you back,” I say.
“And if you don’t succeed?”
“I don’t know,” I whisper, realization thick in my throat that I have no idea how any of this will end.
And as scary as that is, I’ll proceed.