Foolish Lily," he said. "Don't you know why I haven't touched you? Didn't you guess that once you were in my arms I would never let you go?
Connie BrockwayHas he ever even said he loved you?"
"He's been telling me for years," she said softly, "I just wasn't listening
Why did you refuse to marry me then?” he demanded.
She should be quiet; she should just stay mute. But she was angry and hurt. Only moments before he’d been saying such lovely things; now he was being horrible. “Why can’t you help yourself?” she countered, shouting back.
“What?”
“Why are you compelled to come after me?” she demanded, setting her hands on her hips.
For a moment, he just stared at her as if she was daft.
“Because I love you,” he finally said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“What?” She’d waited to hear him say those words for what seemed like an eternity, and now he’d said them just as casually and unconcernedly as he might have said, “I like that dress” or “Spot is a good name for a dog.”
“Because I love you,” he repeated. “Why else would I?”
“I don’t know. Because you’re mad?” she suggested. How dare he say he loved her here, in such a manner, with so little fanfare?
He was watching her carefully. “You seem upset.”
“Oh. Do I?” she asked sweetly. Behind her, the horse shifted uneasily. Smart horse. “Perhaps it’s because I do not believe you.
I love you,” she whispered, gazing up into his pale gray eyes.
He smiled crookedly, for a moment looking at her with a dazzled air. He had, she realized sadly, no experience hearing those words. He didn’t know how to react. “I figured as much.”
This time, she didn’t hit him.
I am no good without you, Ginesse,” he said. “I spent a lifetime alone, but I never understood loneliness until I was away from you. I never understood happiness until I saw you again.
Connie BrockwayThey locked him in the stockade for four days. No other prisoners occupied the other cells that ran the length of the room. He was alone, and that was fine with him. He needed to think, and that was best done in a place where he wouldn’t see Ginesse Braxton—Ginesse, not Mildred—because she did things to his thought processes, such as dammed them up completely.
She acted and he reacted: viscerally, irrepressibly, and ruinously.
She fell in the water; he dove in after her. She laughed; he smiled. She mentioned the beauty of the sunset; he saw colors in it he hadn’t ever noticed. She peeked at him from under her gold-tipped lashes; he grew hard as Damascus steel. Pomfrey said something derogatory; he wanted to kill the sonofabitch with his bare hands.
Things like that.
Come on, Avery." Fresh tears stained her cheeks. Her voice shook. "Wake up,
damn it!" She sobbed, rocking forward and back, her arms wrapping tightly
around his big body. "Don't you want to shout at me for disobeying you, you
overbearing, domineering male?"
She squeezed her eyes shut and bit hard on her lip. He couldn't die. He was too
stubborn, too alive, too vigorous. And she couldn't lose him. She loved him too
much.
"I… am a… gentleman," she heard him gasp. "I never shout at women.
Who of us would have ended up where we are if someone hadn't had the good sense to interfere with us?
Connie BrockwayIf it's got a beard or a battery, you're going to have trouble with it.
Connie BrockwaySome days you're the cockroach, some days you're the boot heel.
Connie Brockway« first previous
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