Her Galahad (26 page)

"Why? What will it change?" She shoved her plate away and got to her feet, pacing to the opposite side of the room.

"Maybe nothing. But getting it out—"

"Use your psychological skills on an amateur. I've been analyzed by the best." She leaned her heated cheek against the coolness of the windowpane, feeling trapped, her heart tom by a warring sense of justice and the unwanted visions of her brother behind bars—maybe even her father.

"I'm not a doctor they've used to label you," he replied, his tone serious. "I care about you."

"And so do they. They love me." Her heart, aching with sadness, released words filling like a swollen dam. "But it doesn't stop any of you. I'm a pawn in this triple game of power and justice. I've bad no choice in what any of you have done to me. So go ahead with your justice—but you can't switch off my feelings, or force me to be your cheer squad. Take your life and name back, and destroy my family—but don't expect me to forgive you, or believe you really care about me."

She hadn't heard him move; but his voice came right behind her, full of passionate conviction. "It's not just for me, Tess. Would I take such a monumental risk with you or Emily if it was only for me? Nearly everything I've done is for you."

"No," she whispered, wanting to deny it, wanting to hear it. "That's not true."

"Yes, it is." Though he didn't touch her, his voice sent warm shivers down her spine. "Like you said, I could have taken the bribes and run. I could've started all this when I got out of lockup. But I couldn't do it. Not until I knew where you were, and safe out of Beller's reach."

Her voice wobbled. "No … you did it to clear your name."

"Yes, in part. I don't deny that. But I could have done it years ago. I waited all this time for your sake."

"Why?" she whispered.

"I couldn't bring myself to hurt you, Tess. I couldn't destroy you that way."

"But you are hurting me. I can't blame you for what you're doing—but I don't know if I can live with it, or forgive you."

"I expected that. I'm not a fool. But I have to do this." His warm breath touched her neck. "I saw you hiding in the post office that day, and I wanted to kill them. I couldn't stand the fear in your eyes, the pain shadows in your heart. My wild swan had become a sad bird with a broken wing who'd forgotten how to fly. When I'd seen you last—on our wedding night—you were joy on wings. I had to do something to fix it. Until you're set free from him—from all of them—you'll            never fly again."

"So you know what's best for me," she said softly. "Just like them. You'll go ahead and do it without talking to me."

"I'm nothing like them! I told you what I wanted from the start. I didn't bribe you or blackmail you—"

"Didn't you?" she asked cynically. "'I'll help you find Emily if you'll help me find justice.'"

"There was never an
if
attached. If you see an
if
in the deal, it's a shadow of your time with Beller." His answer was firm, uncompromising. "Yes, I needed your help—and you needed mine. I want to find Emily for myself as well as you. I'd have come with you whether you agreed to help me or not—but it would have been a hell of a risk without getting evidence on Duncan." Silence. "Think about it, Tess. Did I put
if
in the bargain, or did you?"

"I suppose I did," she sighed.

"Tess. Look at me."

She turned to face him, her eyes searching his for answers to which there'd been no questions spoken. His face was strong and beautiful in his dark maleness, his uncompromising integrity. "You're a partner in everything I do. I'll never blackmail you, or tell you I know what's best for you. We're together in this, as we were in everything we did from the day we met."

"Are you saying that if I took up your offer to stop this, you would?" she challenged.

His mouth quirked. "I don't know. I'd think about it. But if I did, you'd regret it later. When Beller keeps chasing you the rest of your life—which probably wouldn't be very long, not after what we've done to expose him. He'd have to shut you up."

Shamed, she realized he was right. He'd thought this through, not just for him, but for her, as well. "You'd regret it, too."

"I'd be back in lockup, or dead. I wouldn't be able to regret anything." He took her shoulders in his hands, his eyes intent on her face. "I understand your feelings—the guilt, the grief, the anger and fear, especially after facing Duncan today. If I could wave a wand and make all this go away, I'd do it—but all I can do is try to make both our lives better. This is our only shot at freedom as well as justice. I have to do this, and I have to do it now. If I don't, more people than just us will suffer. We're not the only people your family have hurt in all this."

"I know." Her head fell. "Don't worry, Jirrah. I won't ask anything from you but to help me find Emily."

"Won't you?" he murmured, moving closer, warming her with his sweet breath, with the heat from his body. "I told you, mulgu. Ask anything of me, and it's yours. Anything."

She couldn't look at him, or inside her own heart, to the blackness and turmoil and hope inside her. "I just want Emily."

His lips touched her forehead, sure and tender. "Emily's not here with you tonight—but I am. Don't keep grieving forever. Let me take it away, if only for tonight."

"No," she muttered, with a little wobble. "I can't."

He bent to her throat, placing the softest of butterfly kisses there. "Ask me, Tess. Just ask me."

"I
can't!"
she cried, arching her neck backward, drinking in the feel of his lips on her skin.

He took her hand, lacing his fingers through hers, kissing each fingertip with exquisite care. "Anything, my wild swan. Anything you want, Tess. Anything you need. Just ask me."

A wild quiver ran through her entire body. "You said you didn't want—just sex," she gasped.

A low chuckle rumbled against her palm. "Call it what you want—" from above their linked hands, he smiled with gentle forgiveness into her eyes "—but I'll be making love to you.

However, whenever, wherever you want me, my brave, beautiful warrior woman. I'll be there. You've twice braved your family's disapproval and prejudice, standing against them for my sake. If you ever need me, I'll be there for you."

"No." She shook her head. "You don't know what you're saying. Don't make promises I can't believe." But her body betrayed her, her craving heart overcame her self-loathing at the fear that she was sleeping with the enemy. She didn't know who the enemy was anymore. All she knew right now was her dark knight could take the pain away for a few hours. She threw herself into his arms. "Just give me now. Give me tonight." With a little cry of surrender, need, yearning—she didn't know which—she lifted his face with her free hand, and kissed him.

Tenderness. Desire. Need. Faith. It was all in his kiss; it shimmered in the air around them.

Promises.

I'll always be there for you.

He said it all without saying a word. She felt the abiding care for her in every touch, the promises coming straight from his heart. But she had to fight it. He might begin to believe in forever, make the promises, dream of a life together—and he'd be left with nothing but an empty cheat when he knew her greatest reason for holding back.

So she kissed him with pulsing passion to make them both forget this night might be all they'd have. She took his gentle, reverent loving and injected it with heated fever, undressing him so fast she tore his T-shirt, pushing her body against his. She wanted this, oh, how she wanted it—she wanted him as she'd never want another man. She threw out all the sweetness she couldn't bear to feel, and kept the memory. The memory of being a woman again, of the sweet, giving loving she'd only known with him.

They fell back onto the bed; he thrust inside her, kissing her face, her hair, her throat. She pushed him down to her breast. "Jirrah…" She arched her hips to take him deeper inside her. Then slowly, through the sensual fog, she realized he wasn't following her lead anymore; he wasn't going to give her the quick, heated satisfaction she craved. "What is it?" Frowning at his sudden stillness, she looked up at him—and felt scorched by the innate sadness in his eyes.

"This really isn't making love to you anymore, is it, Tess?" His voice was thick with sadness. "This is thanks for telling you about Emily. This is about keeping your distance from me until you say goodbye."

Stricken, she could only look, and breathe, wishing he didn't know her like he did.

He closed his eyes, but not before she saw what the truth had done to him. "I thought I could handle this, but I can't," he said quietly. "Not like this. I can't just have sex with you after what we had, when you loved me." He withdrew from her body, but remained next to her, watching her face. "It feels all wrong in my heart, like I'm betraying the memories of how I loved you, how you loved me. Loving only your body, without giving from your heart, is an empty travesty of what we had."

She turned her face, so he wouldn't see the burning tears building in her eyes. "I can't give you what I haven't got."

"I'm not asking for your soul." His voice was tender, filled with a strength she craved to feel inside her own heart. "I'm not even asking forgiveness for what I'm doing to your family. I just want to make love, not
to
you, but
with
you. I want to see the joy in your eyes when I touch you, not just the passion."

She turned to him, tears trickling down her cheek. "Don't you ever get tired of giving,
ngaya jirrah?"

He took a tear on his fingertip, tasting it on his tongue; and something inexpressibly painful, unspeakably beautiful exploded in her heart. "Not to you, mulgu. Never to you."

"I can't give you anything," she whispered.

"But you do." He cupped her damp, flushed cheek in his palm. "You give to me as naturally as breathing, Tess. You give so much I'm on overload with your sweetness." He kissed her mouth, with slow, loving seduction. "You took a chance with me at Lynch Hill, believing I was in league with them. You believed my crazy story. You stand by my side, knowing I'm taking your family down." He held her shaking body close, running his fingers through her hair. "Don't think I don't know how hard this is for you. I know what I've asked of you. I understand your grief, and I respect it, because your loyalty's torn. Most people would stand back and let me do it, so they wouldn't have to cope with the guilt and pain—but your courage and integrity won't let you hide in the shadows. You've been with me all the way. You made love to me last night, knowing it might be all we'll have."

"That was pure selfishness," she whispered.

"No." He kissed her. "Of course you wanted healing from your time with him—but you didn't let his sick memory overwhelm you. You loved me all the way. You gave your
self
to me last night. You trusted me. You forgot him while you touched me. He never even entered your mind, did he?"

Stunned, she lifted glazed eyes to his. "No…"

"When I touched you, you couldn't think of anything but wanting me. So don't tell me it was just sex—we made love last night, all night, no matter how you deny it."

Fear flooded her, the sheer terror that he could be right, that her slumbering heart was awakening against her will. "No!" His eyes grew cold. "Hide if you need to. But I won't make love with you until it's making love for you, too. I won't betray myself that way." He rolled off the bed. "I'll have a shower."

Blind panic filled her. She bolted to him, throwing her arms around him from behind. "No! Jirrah, don't leave me," she whispered, shaking all over. "I need you!"

He was stiff, unyielding in her arms, not budging an inch. "I can't stand seeing you this way—what you let them turn you into, what your fear and lack of trust in me is doing to you. I can't keep giving it all, when you hold back, living in fear, choosing to stay in the shadows of the past."