Chapter Twelve #4
She broke down into soft sobs, hanging her head, but Addax would not comfort her.
At least, not physically. He was afraid of what would happen if he put his arms around her, and terrified he wouldn’t be strong enough to let her go.
Her soft body against his was all he dreamed of these days.
Strange how a confession of love didn’t devastate him like he’d thought it would.
The fact that she felt the same way wasn’t a surprise, either. Somehow, he’d known.
“Will you do something for me?” he asked softly.
She nodded, wiping her eyes with the back of her hands. “Anything.”
He pointed at the bed. “I want you to lie down and rest,” he said gently. “I will go and see how Max is faring and try to talk him out of any reprisals. You must know that it is becoming increasingly difficult for me not to punish him when he attacks you.”
She stopped weeping, her eyes widening. “You must not do anything,” she said.
“Addax, he would turn against you. He would turn your friends against you. He is a petty, devious man, and although I do not think you see those qualities in him, I do. You have achieved too much to let him ruin things for you. Please… you must never act against him, no matter what he does.”
Addax sighed heavily and averted his gaze. “I know.”
“Promise me.”
He tipped his head up, eyeing her. “I will,” he said. “But the longer I remain here, the more it is likely to happen.”
“Will you leave me, then?”
“I do not know,” he said honestly. “I could not leave, knowing how he is with you… and I could not leave you alone with him. I could not leave you in any case because of what I feel. I am in a difficult position.”
“Then what are you going to do?”
He shook his head. “I suppose there is nothing to be done, not now,” he said. “I must think on it, but until I can come up with a solution, I’m not going anywhere. Until then, just remember what I said… zahid.”
She wiped at her eyes. “Zahid,” she whispered in return.
He simply nodded, keeping his gaze averted, and Emmeline took a few steps toward him.
She was standing close to him, but he still wouldn’t look at her.
He was looking at the floor, the bed, the door—anything so he didn’t have to look her in the face.
As gentle as butterfly wings, she touched his face and kissed him on the right cheek.
“I am so very sorry,” she whispered. “But thank you.”
His hand, once on the door panel, drifted down until it came into contact with her arm.
Emmeline could feel it moving down her forearm, to her wrist, until he came to her hand.
Their flesh touching sent bolts of excitement through her, lightning strikes of pain that made her gasp and turn her head away from him.
But she didn’t pull away.
She stood there and took it, feeling the pain shoot up her arm, feeling her heart race and her stomach tremble.
He gripped her fingers tenderly, and she latched on to him, holding his hand tightly enough to break his bones.
Gently, ever so gently, he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers.
She could feel the scratch of his beard and his hot breath against her flesh.
She gasped again, only louder.
It was a moan.
Emmeline turned in his direction as he still held her hand, putting her free hand on the back of his head, the tears rolling down her cheeks as she touched his beautiful black hair.
She ran her fingers through it, oh so softly, feeling the texture as his lips remained on her hand.
He just held it against his mouth, breathing on her, as she stroked his hair, and when she finally looked at his face, she could see that his eyes were tightly closed.
He had a look of such agony in his expression.
He was a man in torment.
Emmeline could see it. She hated that he was in such pain.
Gently, she tried to remove her hand from his, but he wouldn’t let go.
She finally had to yank it free and then put her hands on his broad shoulders to turn him for the door, because he seemed incapable of breaking out of whatever trance held him.
“Go,” she whispered, unbolting the door and pulling it open even as she tried to push him through. “I will stay here and rest. You must tend to Maximilian.”
Like a man waking from a deep and turbulent sleep, Addax drew in a long and unsteady breath before opening his eyes.
He was staring out into the corridor, feeling Emmeline’s hands on his shoulders as she tried to guide him out of the chamber.
He blinked, trying to orient himself, realizing that holding Emmeline’s hand had very nearly thrown him over the edge.
He had her hand and he wouldn’t let it go.
He didn’t know how he was supposed to function now, but he was going to have to try.
Try to act as if the woman he loved wasn’t married to another.
“Go,” Emmeline said again, giving him a little shove. “I will see you later.”
He nodded as he stepped, stiffly, out into the corridor. “I will return once I’ve seen Max.”
“Addax?”
“Aye?”
“Zahid, my darling.”
He couldn’t look at her. All he could feel was glory in his heart and a lump in his throat. Taking another deep breath, he turned his head, seeing her in his periphery over his right shoulder.
“Zahid,” he whispered.
And then he was gone.