Chapter Twenty-Two #2
“I’m a part of this now,” she stated. “Perhaps even more than you. From the time I was a small child, I’d been drawn to those images in my grandmother’s book.
I’ve always felt connected to them somehow.
” Her voice lowered and her gaze flickered downward for a moment before she spoke again, her voice more hesitant.
“I’ve been wondering lately what the purpose of my life might be.
Wondering if all I am is a daughter or sister of important men.
Wondering if my fate is simply to marry well and raise the children of another important man. ”
Though Phin felt compelled to refute her words and insist that she was so much more than that, he resisted. And listened.
Her gaze sharpened. “I am a part of this, Phin. It’s given me a purpose when I thought I had none. This mystery belongs to me. It’s buried in my soul. It’s linked, somehow, to my future. I don’t understand how, but I know it is.”
Though the room was barely lit, there was no way to miss the fierce determination in her set jaw, focused gaze, and lengthened posture.
Phin tensed as every protective instinct inside him demanded he refuse her. A more evolved part of him knew it would be pointless. And reductive.
She was a part of this.
And though he’d triggered her knowledge of the current situation, she’d been connected to it by blood from the very beginning. Perhaps something about the warnings was correct. Perhaps something about this was fated. For him, as well.
The logical part of his brain easily convinced him that the best way to keep her safe was to keep her near him. Close. Intimate, if necessary.
Ignoring the frisson of anticipation in his blood, he glanced across the room to an inset door. “I assume that leads to your bedroom,” he noted casually.
“What? Um, yes,” she stuttered in reaction to the abrupt change in topic.
Phin nodded and noted the comfortable, albeit small, sofa. “I’ll stay here tonight.”
She gave a small choked sound then breathed a ragged, “What?”
“I doubt that man is working alone. If he doesn’t return from whatever task he’d been set to accomplish tonight, others could be sent after him.”
Seeing a flicker of alarm in her eyes, he notched a wicked grin, remembering how his teasing had eased her distress in the past. “I’m afraid you’ve got yourself a personal bodyguard for the night.”
She stared at him. Then she sighed. “And in the morning, we’ll go to question him. Together.”
Admiration flared along with an inappropriate excitement that she hadn’t argued his declaration. He nodded. “As you command, princess.”
She made a face at the nickname. “My maid will come to wake me at ten o’clock. You cannot be found here.”
“Don’t worry,” he replied. “I’m rather good at making myself scarce.”
Her mouth tilted into something that might have been a subtly mocking smile. “I’m aware.” Then she stood and took the soiled cloth from him before crossing back into the connected room.
Disappointed that she hadn’t even bothered to wish him a good night, Phin stood to release the knots of his neckcloth.
Though he wouldn’t be able to stretch his legs straight on the abbreviated piece of furniture, it was a hell of a lot more comfortable than a thousand places he’d slept on his travels.
But that didn’t mean he had to be confined by unnecessary clothing.
After tossing the neckcloth to a nearby chair, he bent to remove Claudia from his boot, setting the knife on the tea table before toeing off his boots.
He’d just begun to open the fastenings at the neck of his shirt when he heard a sound behind him.
He glanced over his shoulder to see Eleanor standing a few steps into the room, a thick woven blanket and pillow clutched against her chest. Her expression was slightly stunned. Her lips were parted and her wide, dark, gorgeous eyes were focused on him.
Focused but roving.
Her intent gaze slid over him from head to toe then back up to span the breadth of his shoulders.
Sometimes his experience within other cultures caused Phin to momentarily forget the degree to which the British shielded their daughters.
A man without a coat and a bared throat, was likely a rare sight.
One the lady seemed rather captivated by, if her pink cheeks and halted breath were any indication.
Enjoying her reaction far more than he should, Phin turned toward her more fully. The twitch of her gaze as she perused the sight of his shadowed collarbone gave him a jolt of lust that would soon be drawing her gaze to a lower part of his anatomy.
Though he had no wish to disconcert her in a way she did not desire, he couldn’t help but crave more of her attention. He quite suddenly and intensely needed to feel more than her stare on his body. He wanted her hands. Her lips.
Damn.
Phin held still, his nerves buzzing, his blood thrumming hotly. He cleared his throat and glanced pointedly to the bundle in her arms. “Are those for me?”
“Yes,” she blurted abruptly. Then she cleared her throat in a near perfect mimic of what he’d just done. “I mean, yes. I thought you might appreciate the extra comfort.”
She started forward then came to another abrupt halt after a few more steps. Her gaze dropped to the knife he’d placed on the table. Her hesitation only lasted a moment before she continued forward again.
“That’s quite a blade,” she remarked dryly.
Phineas grinned. “A gift from a Turkish sultan. I’m never without her.”
“Her?”
He chuckled. “I call her Claudia.”
“Hm,” she noted with a hint of amusement that quickly faded. “You must have a thousand thrilling tales to tell about your life.”
“I suppose,” he replied carefully, sensing the weightiness in the atmosphere around them.
“Sometimes, I feel as though I’ve barely lived at all,” she confessed in a soft murmur.
She stood before him now and flickered her gaze to his. She did not turn to set the blanket and pillow on the sofa. Nor did she extend them for him to take. She just stood there, clutching them to her chest, her gaze intent upon his.
“Thank you,” he said after a moment, his voice surprisingly gruff, as he stepped toward her.
Her yearning was palpable. For adventure, experience, the thrill of life.
He was desperate to give it to her.
Taking the bundle from her arms, he carelessly dropped it to the sofa beside him. A soft sound escaped her. It was breathy and soft and sweet. And it angled straight through him like a bolt of fire, spreading and consuming his better judgment.
In the next instant, she was in his arms.