Chapter 20 Hide and Seek #3
Clara snorted. “I wasn’t bothered in the slightest, but I appreciate the concern.
” Angling the mirror when he peered into the glass, she admired the way his biceps bunched beneath his rolled-up, loosely fitted linen sleeves, his lashes low as he dragged the blade across his skin.
A few long, golden-brown strands of hair loosened from his queue and hung alongside his cheeks, swaying with each movement and dragging her eyes toward his proud chin, the distinct dip of his Adam’s apple, and the narrow, open shirt collar framing a smattering of dark curls.
Her thighs tensed, and an intense heat pooled within her lower belly.
“Did you enjoy your night with John?” he asked.
Clara jerked, guilted by her staring. “No,” she said. “He was a complete doddypole, and only half as charming as a dirt clod.”
Benjamin laughed. “Come now, there’s no need to insult dirt clods.”
Clara fought a smile of her own, and once their eyes locked, a deeper warmth settled in her stomach. “You make that look so easy,” she said, indicating his blade. “Are you certain I can’t help?”
A wry smile tipped the corner of Benjamin’s mouth. “Very certain. Thank you.” Cleaning the straight razor in his shaving bowl, he smoothed the blade over his other cheek. “What about Dr. Wagner reminded you of a dirt clod?”
This time, Clara’s smile blossomed unfettered. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“What? Am I not allowed?” An embittered quality overtook his face, stark and filled with shadows. “I enjoy so very little as of late.”
Clara softened. “You may not want to hear it, Ben, but you’re very lucky.” When he curled his lip at her, she argued, “No, you really are. Your father…he is so warm and loving and kind. You may lack the ability to stand, but you have no shortage of love in this house. I confess I envy you.”
Incredulous, Benjamin stopped shaving. “Why? Are you saying you’d wish for my life over yours?”
“Yes…I daresay I would.” Shoulders slouching, she amended, “I know you do not have it easy, and I do love my sisters more than anything, but…until tonight, I’d never known what it was like to have a paternal figure care about me as a person, and without an ulterior motive.
” She shrugged. “Wouldn’t you agree that love is more important than mobility? ”
Benjamin frowned. “That’s easy for you to say. You can still walk.”
“Yes, I can,” Clara agreed, “but being able to walk, being just like all the rest, is hardly a consolation, Ben. Being loved and cared for and respected is what matters.”
Avoiding her gaze, Benjamin continued dragging his straight razor across his face, his movements sharp and stilted.
“You disagree,” she accused. His face soured, and she sighed. “You only disagree because we are never appreciative of what we have.”
“No,” Benjamin coolly said. “I disagree because my father, my best friend, and a socialite are all waiting on me hand and foot, as though I am some life-sucking leech! Ever since my affliction started, I have brought nothing to the table.”
“Well, you’re not completely useless…you are an excellent paperweight,” Clara teased. When he didn’t crack a smile, she sighed and lowered the mirror. “I don’t know why I bothered coming back here.”
“Why did you come back?” Benjamin agreed, taking the cloth and wiping his face. “For someone who hates ‘rebel scum’ so much, you’re certainly quick to horn in on my affairs.”
Clara bristled. “After all that’s happened, after everything we’ve been through together, can you truly believe I’d be so callous as to disregard your feelings? I am a loyalist, but I’m not a monster, Ben. I had hoped that by this point, you could see that.”
Benjamin faltered, setting aside the cloth.
When he did so, Clara noted the bloom of red on his cheek and winced, her hand instinctively drawing to his face.
“Oh,” she breathed. “Oh, goodness, you’ve cut yourself…
” Snatching the cloth from his lap, she took his chin and dabbed at the bleeding cut.
Benjamin jerked at her sudden closeness, his eyes averting as she applied pressure to the wound.
“I am not an invalid,” he groused. Wincing at the tragic irony, he amended, “That is to say, I can take care of myself.”
“Of course, you can,” Clara agreed. “But you don’t have to be so stubborn all the time, you know. You are allowed to ask for help.”
Hesitant, Benjamin slid his hand up her arm and encircled her wrist, anchoring her palm against his cheek. His eyes grew despairing as he appraised her face. “I need your help,” he whispered.
Help me forget. Help me stop feeling so worthless, so empty…
With a shivering breath, he leaned forward and pressed into the giving rush of her mouth, his free hand tangling through her hair and drawing her lips into his more strongly.
Clara stiffened against him, but then both of her hands gripped his shirt, and she angled into his kiss, drinking of him with such ardor that his head spun.
Tugging and pulling and yanking, he attempted to get closer still.
Opening his mouth beneath hers, he cradled her face between his hands and devoured her every breath, a stab of elation swelling between his ribs once he realized he was wanted.
He would never give up in battle, but this?
This, he wished to succumb to completely—his very own personal surrender.
Her touch lit through his bloodstream like a bonfire, and once he deepened the kiss with an explorative roll of his tongue, her palm struck harshly against his cheek. An explosion of pain followed, and she jerked back in a fury.
“Don’t you dare,” Clara seethed at him. “Don’t you dare confuse me like this! I’ve been used, abused by enough men in my life, so don’t you add to it just because you’re in pain! You either care for me or you don’t! And by God, if the answer is no, I don’t want you ever touching me again!”
Benjamin quivered. “Clara…”
She shoved herself free of his hold, then threw the bloodied cloth into his lap. Tears sprang from her eyes, and as he fumblingly reached for her hand, she smacked him away. “I said no!” she warned. “If you think I’ll allow myself to be whipped back and forth, you are sadly mistaken!”
“I’m sorry,” Benjamin choked. “Please, Clara…” His vision blurred with tears. Please, don’t leave me. Please, please don’t.
Clara faltered, genuine pity flooding across her features, but then she spun about and rushed for the safety of the hall.
The door slamming shut reverberated like a gunshot through his chest, and with a feeble cry, Benjamin tugged on his hair and gave in to all the sorrow, the hurt that had consumed him ever since the start of this reprehensible war.