Heroes Live Forever (Knights in Time) (44 page)

BOOK: Heroes Live Forever (Knights in Time)
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Ian moved a chair and sat opposite her, a knee against the outside of each of her thighs. He cupped her chin and with gentle strokes wiped the stain of tears from her face.

"The clock is ticking. What do you want to talk about?" Miranda looked down her nose while he worked.

He laid the cloth on the carpet. He wrapped his hands around hers, preparing for the most important speech of his life. He ran his thumbs across her knuckles to memorize the feel of her fingers, their smoothness, and their warmth. He studied everything about her hands, how pale her skin looked against the bright red of her polish, the ridges and valleys the bones formed, the pink scar from an old burn.

"I'm a fool Miranda. The oldest fool you know," he said and raised his eyes to hers.

"The problem with old fools is we tend to hold onto what we're used to, what we're familiar with. We're so attached to the past we become oblivious to the present. I lived with the memory of Elinor for so long, it never occurred to me I could love someone else. I’ve discovered I love another even more."

Ian brought her fingers to his lips and kissed each in turn. "The past is done. I will always relish what was good. But this is our time. I want to embrace my new life and everything it has to offer, with you
.
I don't want to lose you, Miranda. I can’t. You are my future."

He paused, desperate to see forgiveness in her eyes. Whatever she felt, she kept it on a tight rein. Ian pressed his case.

"All I ask is a chance to start over with you. Give me that chance. Give
us
a chance."

He'd broken her heart, twice. The first time, as Elinor was unavoidable. Whether or not, Miranda acknowledged the power of that distant memory, he was convinced it held great influence. He’d unintentionally broken her heart again in his tragic effort to compensate for the first hurt. Each action was explainable...fixable
,
he only needed the opportunity.

The verdict showed in her eyes. The skepticism he saw in their watery depths changed to condemnation. She dropped her gaze and eased her hands from his.

"What am I supposed to say?"

Before he could answer, Miranda said, "Loving you is like being in free fall without a net. I'm asked to trust you with another chance. You say it'll be different. Yet, not so long ago you told me you never lie. I trusted you."

The bitter recollection hardened her gentle features. The firm set of her jaw turned her soft, full mouth into a tight, thin line. The pallor he observed earlier was gone. Anger and hurt had heightened the color in her cheeks.

"Every kiss, every caress, every touch you gave me was meant for another woman. But you let me believe they were meant for me."

"You don't understand..."

"Don't, Ian. Don't insult me with some ridiculous lie."

"Am I not allowed to defend myself? The lowliest criminal is given the opportunity to state his side."

He took a moment to chose his words. If all she heard was frustration, she’d tune him out.

"How can I get you to understand? To me, you and Elinor were the same woman. Until today, all the things I hold dear about you, all the reasons my day is made brighter by your presence, I didn't see as unique to you. I only saw it when I realized I might lose you...you...
Miranda
, not Elinor."

All he saw were recriminations in her eyes. His explanation hadn’t moved her, forgiveness as out of reach now as before.

Frustration returned.

"Tell me. What exactly is my crime? Being blind to what I had until I risked losing it? I agree. Guilty as charged. I doubt I’m the only person to make that mistake. Have you never spoken rashly and wished you could recant, never done something you regretted and wished you could undo?

"I'm human, Miranda. I make mistakes. Would you condemn me, condemn us, because of an unseeing fool's mistake? I've asked only for a chance. Is it so much to ask for when there's so much to gain?"

Maybe the spark of love she had for him would sway her to consider his plea.

"I don't know. I suspect the only real fool in this room is me. How can I believe you?" She sounded confused and unsure, but not indifferent. Ian feared her indifference the most.

"You don't have to believe me right now. All I ask for is the opportunity to convince you. I'm told I can be quite charming." He threw the last hoping she’d find it amusing. She said she liked his sense of humor and he needed every advantage.

"You might want to rethink that statement. Under the circumstances, charm is not your best selling point."

Ian gave himself a mental kick. In her current mood, of course she’d put a negative spin on the comment.

"One chance, please," he said in a more serious tone.

Her expression softened. A ghost of a smile touched the corners of her mouth as she studied him and then disappeared and she yanked her hands free. She knocked his knee aside and pushed past him.

"You’re a conceited, bottom dwelling toad."

She was pissed, but he didn’t think it meant he’d lost her yet. Pissed meant she still had strong feelings for him, even if they weren’t taking a positive direction at the moment.

She paced four strides, pivoted and took four back and pivoted again.

Ian swung the chair around and calculated his next move, worried her hurt deepened with each step. He’d explained himself to the best of his ability. He was at a loss as to what more to do or say. He needed to distract her and said the first thing that came to mind. "Toads aren't bottom dwellers, by the way.”

The feeble quip worked. She stopped, and a long, scarlet tipped finger pointed close to the end of his nose.

"Don't you dare get pedantic with me. You know very well what I meant.”

Ian wrapped his hand around her finger and offered the only appeal he had left. “I’ve endured many losses in my time, both in life and death. The pain of those totaled up can’t compare to the pain of losing you.”

“Ian...”

She tugged her finger from his grasp. “You made me love you. Then, you made me weep for you. I’ve never been a crier. I hate it. Only the emptiest headed twit would give you another chance."

He didn’t argue, pleased she mentioned a second chance. She was giving it consideration.

"What a wretched, pathetic wimp I am. You frustrate me, vex me beyond measure, I—oh!" her hands fisted as she turned the force of her fury on the heavy oak door. She slammed an open palm against it. “I don’t want to love you anymore!” Open-handed, she pounded on the ancient wood. “I want to hate you.”

She rested her forehead against the door and continued to beat a palm on it. Each strike grew less forceful until the storm finally passed.

“I’d have to stop loving you to hate you, and I can’t.” Her shoulders sagged as she hung her head. "Damn you Ian, and damn me too."

It was over.

He breathed a sigh of relief and took her in his arms. She laid her head on his shoulder, offering no resistance. Ian stroked her back, as little by little, the bunched muscles relaxed under his touch.

"Are you done being angry with me?" The slight nod of her head rubbed his collarbone. He brushed the hair back from her face and tilted her chin with his forefinger. "Are you done being angry with yourself?" She nodded again. He kissed her temples, her nose, her cheeks, all the places she was flush from exertion. “I haven’t heard the word vexed used in a sentence in quite awhile.”

“It was a first for me.”

“Can we start over?”

“I’d like that,” Miranda said.

Ian stepped back and extended his hand. “Hello, I’m Ian Cherlein.”

“Hi, I’m Miranda Coltrane.”

She held her hand out as if to shake his, but the former knight kissed the back of her fingers. “Have I told you Ms. Coltrane how very happy I am you joined me today?”

“Sort of.” Smiling, she added, “Yes.”

Ian slipped her hand through his elbow. "Why don't we go downstairs? I've got a surprise for you."

"Another surprise?" Miranda froze; her eyes huge.

"Nothing earthshaking I promise," he reassured.

"God, I hope not."

Chapter Fifty-Nine

They entered the main drawing room where he walked them over to a bare area in front of the windows. "An old friend told me you like to dance." With an inward groan, he realized too late how she might interpret "old friend," as Elinor.

“Yes, I love to dance. Why?"

Relieved, Ian said, "I believe you'll like this CD. I thought we could dance to it." The music was his choice and he wanted to impress her with his selection.

"Ah...okay."

"You’re hesitating."

"From your enthusiasm, I'm guessing you picked up a CD by one of my favorite rock bands.” She stared at him like he’d grown another head. “To be honest, I never pictured you dancing to rock music. The image is almost surreal."

Ian wasn't sure if she'd insulted him or not. It didn't matter. “Dance with me.”
With me, like you did with Alex.
He gathered her in his arms and hit the remote control.

The first few notes of Sarah Brightman's
Time to Say
Goodbye
played. He’d never knowingly listened to the song before now. Kiki said Brightman was a favorite of Miranda’s.

In the past, Alex would’ve gone with him to select the music, but Ian had chosen this particular CD on his own. Above Miranda’s head, as he held her close, he smiled in silent self-congratulation.

Sarah Brightman opened with Italian lyrics then switched and sang the next line in English.

“Am I to get no breaks?” Ian released Miranda, hit the stop button on the remote, and stormed over to the player.

How could everything he planned go so wrong? Today, the most important day of his life, a day when the possibility of failure never entered his mind, was one debacle after another.

Miranda slammed into him with an, “oof.”

He didn’t notice. He glared at the player and ejected the disk.

"What are you doing?" She moved to his side, plucked the CD from his fingers and put it back in the tray. "I love that song.”

"
Time to Say Goodbye
?
Time to Say Goodbye
? Do I need this right now?" Ian challenged back, incredulous she had to ask.

What she found redeeming about the song was a mystery. It took a minute for her protest to register in his brain.

"How can you like this song? It's about people leaving each other, as in, breaking up isn't so hard to do." He flipped the plastic holder over and read the song list. "I can't believe my luck. The first time I pick music and it's about goodbyes."

His grumbling continued. “What's so funny?" he asked, seeing Miranda’s grin.

"You. You are so cute, all huffy and puffy." She pulled him down and kissed him on the cheek. "Ian, the title is on the front cover of the case."

"I didn't read the bloody thing. I grabbed a bunch of Sarah Brightman CD's and paid for them. I knew you liked her. I figured there'd be something to please you in the stack."

Her chest and shoulders vibrated with suppressed laughter. His best quelling look didn’t faze her. “Go ahead; get it out of your system.”

"Oh Ian, if you knew how adorable you look, you'd laugh too." Miranda played with the hair at his nape. "I think this is the most romantic CD on the planet.”

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