Again (33 page)

Only when Galen nodded his head in the direction of the door did Sara move from his side.

Galen waited until Sara closed the door before speaking.

“Where have you been?”

Catherine cringed at the accusation in his voice.
 
She fought back the tears that welled, her heart aching.
 
Gone was the innocence of their youth and the trust they once had.
 

“I simply could not sleep and needed some fresh air.”
 
It was not a lie, she reminded herself.
 
Her sleepless nights were indeed a part of her now, spurred by the longing and worry for a man she could not have.

Galen pushed himself from the mantle and turned to face her.
  
Silhouetted against the glow of the blaze, he looked defeated, his broad shoulders drooping.
 
When he walked towards her, his steps were hesitant, and when he stood before her, his face was weary and sad.

“What keeps you awake at night, Catherine?”
 
He reached up to touch her face, his thumb tracing the circles beneath her eyes.

She tasted another lie.
 
They came too easy for her now.
 
But she could not tell the truth.
 
“I do not know,” was all that she could say, but his eyes told her he knew otherwise.

His jaw clenched, and his eyes grew colder.

She stood motionless as he abruptly walked past her to the door.
 
She pressed her lips together, bracing herself against the gnawing guilt.
 
She spun around at the sound of the bolt sliding into place, but Galen was still in the room.

“I will have you, Catherine.
 
Now.”
 
He glared at her with the determination of a trained warrior.
 
Galen stood his full height, his chest expanded to its full breadth.
 
“I will not have that merchant take what is rightfully mine.”

Catherine raised an eyebrow to his declaration.
 
“Rightfully yours? I am not a horse to be sold or bargained for, Galen.”

“So you say, dear lady, but I question your judgment.
 
It seems to be clouded of late.”

He dropped his belt and pulled his tunic over his head, tossing it aside.
 
His golden hair fell around his broad shoulders, the muscles tensed with anger.

She swallowed hard.
 
She had never thought of him as a lover, but now, his sculpted chest, his rippling stomach, and his powerful thighs, gave her a moment’s pause.
 
But only a moment, for with one stride he was in front of Catherine, staring hard into her eyes.

She defiantly lifted her chin and stared back.
 

Reaching out to stroke her cheek with the back of his fingers, his face softened and the harshness of his eyes was suddenly gone.

“I have always adored your fire, Catherine.
 
You have so much passion in your soul.”
 
He dipped his face close and brushed his lips against hers. “I love you to the depths of my own soul, Catherine.”

Though they were the tender words any other woman would yearn to hear from such a man, Catherine could not accept them.
 

“No, Galen.
 
I cannot.”
 
She tried to push him away, but his hand reached around her back and pulled her against his hard body.
 
Their eyes locked and Catherine shivered at the coldness that once again turned his steel eyes to ice.

In one swift move he picked her up and carried her to the bed.

“Galen!
 
No!” she cried, beating against his chest with her small hands.

“Do not dare deny me, milady,” he growled.
 
“I have been patient with your folly too long.
 
I have been your faithful servant for long years, but now I will be your lord.”
 

Throwing her roughly on the bed, he pulled up her arms and pinned them over her head.
 
He then sprawled his full length over her body, letting her feel his desire.

“Let me see the same blaze of fire that lights up your eyes when you see that merchant.”

His crushing kiss halted her denial.
 
His lips were harsh, bruising her mouth.
 

She pressed her lips together against his tongue’s assault.
 

He pulled away, smiling coldly.
 
“Very well then.
 
Just a warm glow will do.”
 
He kissed a line along her jaw to her ear and whispered, “If you would only give me but a morsel of the passion you feel for him, I would die happy.”

He moved over her, pushing her knees apart with his own, his free hand cupping her breast, squeezing her nipple between his fingers.
 
His breath was hot against her skin wherever he pressed his urgent kisses.

A scream worked its way up Catherine’s chest and throat, a scream of anger and panic.
 
She knew he loved her, but she had asked him to wait.
 
And to reward him for his patience, she fell in love with another man.
 
Though she knew she had pushed him beyond endurance, he still had no right to take her like this!
 
She squeezed her eyes tight, willing herself to stay calm.
 
She would despise him for this, but he would hate her even more when he discovered she was no longer a maiden.
 
She lay there, unmoving, as his hand worked its way under her dress, to her buttocks, pulling her closer.

Then he went still.

She waited for his anger to explode, waited for the sounds of ripping fabric, waited for the invasion of her body, but instead his grip slowly relaxed on her wrists.
 

He held his face inches from hers.
 
“You may stop praying, Catherine.”

She opened her eyes and saw that the anger in his eyes had been replaced with sadness.

“I want you to come to me freely.
 
I want your desire to match my own.
 
If you cannot give yourself to me, I will not take you against your will.”
 

Pushing himself to sit at the side of the bed, he shoved his fingers through his hair.
 
His breath was deep and labored with defeat.
 
He looked to the ceiling, his eyes distant.

“I have fought many an enemy, but never one such as this.
 
Even if I were to pierce his heart with a sword, I cannot kill what you so obviously feel for him.”

She opened her mouth to protest.

He shook his head.
 
“I found your letter.”

She was too late to stifle her quick intake of air.
 

Galen closed his eyes and took another deep breath, his forehead creased in a frown.
 
“Perhaps someday, Catherine, you will see my love is forever.
 
I have no desire to be anywhere but with you.”

Hot tears stung her eyes and regret rose like bile in her throat and churned like acid in her stomach.
 
How could a chance meeting with a merchant have turned her life so completely around?
 
Had she not met Jonathan, had she not fallen in love…
 
Aye, things would have been far simpler, but she would have lived her days behind a veil of gray, not seeing the vibrant colors of her own passion.
 

She kneeled beside Galen and put her forehead against his shoulder.
 

“I am so sorry,” she whispered.
 

His muscles tensed under her fingertips as she followed the outline of his arm.

“No.
 
Please.”
 
His voice was strained.
 
He shrugged her off and abruptly got up to sit in the chair beside the bed.
 
He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands.

“It hurts so much, Catherine.
 
It hurts because I love you with all of my heart.”
 
He whispered as though he were afraid to admit his weakness.
 
“I am hopelessly yours.
 
I have no choice.
 
I can love no one else.”

Catherine slid off the bed and again kneeled before him.
 
She could not bear to see him, a man so strong, so fierce a warrior, reduced to this.
 
She hated what she was doing to him.

Galen searched her face for some comfort, for some shred of hope for him. “Can there ever be love between us?”

She could not answer that, for she did not know.

His thumb smoothed the quivering of her lips and wiped away the tears that escaped her eyes.
 
He fisted her hair at her neck and pulled her close to him, drawing her lips to his.
 
Their tears mingled as the kiss deepened.
 
A groan rumbled in his chest and he pulled away, breathless.
 
He got up quickly, pushing her away.

“I cannot do this.”
 
He retrieved his tunic from the floor and quickly slid it over his head.
 
“I will not leave your side, Catherine, until you tell me I am no longer welcome.
 
But you cannot have us both and I will not be second to
him
.”

He picked up his belt from the floor and wrapped it around his waist, yanking hard to secure it.
 
Running his hands through his hair, he opened the door and left, not looking back.

Suddenly cold, Catherine wrapped her arms around herself to fight off the chill running up her spine.

What had Jonathan told her?
 
If it makes you happy, it cannot be wrong.
 
Just find what it is that makes you happy and live it.
 

She was no longer sure what it was that would truly make her happy.

Chapter 33

There.
 
She’d done it.
 
She had told Brandi to leave.

It’s been a long time coming.
 
Too long, Eryn thought.
 
Finally she could see their relationship for what it was.
 
Since the day they met, they’d used each other to feed some compulsion inside of them; her need to give, and Brandi’s need to take, with a little bit of vengeance mixed in.

Eryn wasn’t sure how much Brandi had drunk tonight, but she had already decided she couldn’t wait until her friend sobered up.
 

Now Brandi’s knuckles were turning white as she gripped the bar, and though Eryn couldn’t see her face, she figured it was twisted with fury.
 
Brandi’s back was rigid, her shoulders and back rising and falling steeply with each breath.

Then Brandi seemed to relax.
 
She picked up her glass and took a sip before turning around to face Eryn.
 

“So that’s it, huh?
 
Just like that? Throwing out the garbage?”

Eryn bit her lower lip to keep from saying anything, afraid she would back down and be the coward she had been all these years.

With each word, Brandi’s voice went a step higher.
 
“Do you think it is easy being where I am?
 
Having to look at you day after day?
 
You have it all, Eryn!
 
A big house, too much money.
 
Isn’t it enough?”

“You’re jealous of me?”

“I forgave you for taking away my boyfriend and now you try to take away the one place I can stay!
 
I have nowhere to go!”

“I tried to help you…”

“I don’t want your pity,” Brandi spat out.
 
She finished off her drink in one gulp and turned to pour another.
 
“God, Eryn.
 
You take everything for granted.
 
You can’t even see what a good friend I’ve been.”

Eryn’s jaw dropped in disbelief.

Brandi waved her hands, her drink spilling over the edge of the glass.
 
“And what about Bryce?
 
Look at the way you treat him.”

“You don’t understand, Brandi.
 
Bryce and I…”

Brandi laughed.
 
“Oh yes I do.
 
I understand that you don’t give a shit about him.
 
Do you have any idea what he feels?
 
While you’re off taking pictures of those pathetic homeless people, he’s home alone.
 
Not to mention,” she said, poking Eryn in the chest, “that you’re running around with
another
guy.
 
God, how many men do you have to have?”

“I told you before!
 
I am not running around with anyone!”

“Whatever.”

“Bryce and I are just fine.
 
We just need to work on some things.”