Cloaked in Danger (29 page)
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Adam stood very still, separated from her only by a few feet, but Aria was so trapped in her own head, in her own never-ending nightmares she didn’t know how to reach him.
“What do you mean, he ruined you?” Adam spoke softly, a thread of pain and uncertainty lacing every syllable.
Shame filled her, and she dropped her head. Of course he would need clarification, but the words choked her, threatened to close off all air. She needed the blessed empty distance she had found from her emotions, but Adam’s appearance had yanked her back right to the edge. Her anger had escaped, and now that one emotion had been released, the others began to surge up, forward. Caged birds demanding release. They battered down her wall of protection and she felt raw. Exposed. Uncertain.
And so very, very afraid that if she told him the truth, if she admitted what Wade had done, Adam would want nothing to do with her.
He had given so much for her, and she was broken.
“Aria.” Anguish reflected that one word. “Did he hurt you? Did he...” His mouth opened, but nothing came out of them.
“He came in here one night, believing I had...that we had been together intimately. He was enraged beyond anything I’d ever seen.”
Adam sucked in a breath, and horror flashed across his face, but Aria couldn’t stop. She had to continue.
“He was infuriated that I had let you touch me, and he wanted to prove he owned me. That I was his.”
A strangled gasp came from Adam, and fear curled Aria into herself. She could not look up and see disappointment in his eyes.
“He held me down, he tried—” She stopped, certain it was clear enough without the words. “But I got away. I kicked him and fled.” Without looking at Adam, she walked to the window she had jumped from, peered through the dirty glass at the alleyway below. She rubbed one arm with her hand, her fingers pressing hard to match the growing pain inside. “I thought he would kill me. I was tainted. No longer his perfect prize.” She lifted her shoulders. “I still don’t know why he didn’t. Why didn’t he kill me?”
No words, either of comfort or consequence, came from behind her. Tension pushed at the very walls of the room, and Aria squared her shoulders, dropped her hands to her sides, and prepared to face whatever Adam had to offer.
The sight of him shocked her. His shoulders had hunched inward, and his hands lay limp in his lap. She could not see his face. His breathing was shallow, uneven. It felt like hours passed, until he finally raised his head to meet her gaze. The misery in them, the unfiltered pain, pulled her breath right from her chest.
She stepped forward. “Adam—”
“You need to know...Oh God, Aria.” He ran a hand over his head. “I taunted him. I made him believe that we had been intimate. I caused that. I set him loose on you.” He doubled over at the waist. “What the hell did I do?”
His pain stood like a tortured presence between them. Knowing the endless cycle he was about to set himself on, she crossed the distance between them. Knelt in front of him.
“Adam, I already knew what you said to Patrick. He told me that day.”
His hand landed on her shoulder with a rough grasp, and even as her body shied away, Aria knew it was a plea for his own comfort, his own need. She shoved her panic down, took a deep breath, and then placed her hand softly on top of his, fingers to fingers, her palm atop the back of his. The simple touch soothed her, reminded her of how safe she had always felt in his arms. It gave her hope that maybe, just maybe they could make it through this. “It was not your fault.”
Her words had no effect. He held himself as if waiting for ten lashes to commence.
She pushed down with her fingers. “You are not so self-absorbed, are you?”
At his own words, he snapped out of it and met her gaze, his blue eyes filled with regret. “What?”
“Are you the puppet master now?”
“This is not the same! My words directly caused Wade to—”
“—make his own choice,” she finished.
“There you are.” Her father’s irritated, gruff voice rang out from the doorway and stopped them from further discussion. “You might have told me that you found her, Merewood.”
His gaze darted about the room. “Bloody hell, he did this.”
“Yes. It was his idea of kindness, I suppose.” Aria stood. She was surrounded by her prison and the men who mattered most. Their presence in the room ate away the edges of the nightmare’s grip inside of her.
And for the first time in so long, her breath came without effort.
Her father took measure of them both and took a step back. “I think I will wait downstairs. We should leave here as soon as we can. We’re starting to attract attention.”
Alone once again, Aria waited for Adam to speak.
She had felt such happiness when she looked up and saw him standing there. She’d been so awful to him, so certain that walking away—no, running away—had been the right choice, had been her
only
choice.
And every day that she had sunk deeper into the well of her own nightmares, she’d wanted nothing more than his hand to reach in and help her find her way out.
And then he was here.
He hadn’t lifted his head, and Aria knew it was her turn. He had been there for her, even when she didn’t deserve it. Even when she defied him, lied to him and ignored his warnings.
It was her turn to be on his side.
“Adam, I came here to find a way to let go,” she said softly. “I had to try, because it was the only way I could go to you. But you deserve to know who I am first.”
His head shot up and his gaze matched hers with a ferocity that pulled her toward him. She took a long breath and stepped forward. “I have nightmares. I flinch when someone touches me, and I don’t know how long it will take before that goes away. I don’t know if it ever will.” Her chest began to ache. “But I know what I want. I want you. I want the life you offered me. With all its lack of glamour or excitement. Even with the season in London. All of it. But in exchange for that,” she had to stop as the ache in her chest moved into her throat, and wetness began to push at the backs of her eyes, “you get only me.” She raised her hands in an open, helpless shrug, feeling more vulnerable than she ever had. “I’m a bit of a mess and it’s a poor bargain to make, I know. I’m getting the far better end and I have no right to ask it, but since when has that ever stopped me?”
Adam reached a hand out to wipe the wetness from her cheeks. “Nothing stops you.”
The achingly sweet words reached into her heart and opened it full. A sob came out, and then another, and before she knew it, she was in his arms again. The pain, the sadness, and all the terror of the last months poured out. And as it did, joy began to sprout up in the empty places, lifting the heavy darkness away.
“Does this mean you forgive me?” she asked against his chest.
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. His arms were light around her, enough to offer comfort and yet gentle enough she pulled away with ease when she needed to.
“Your father asked me to take you home with me, you know,” Adam said.
She smiled. “You only live a few blocks away.”
“Not that home. Merewood. We are leaving today. Will you come?” His words were tentative, as if he still wasn’t certain she would say yes.
“Oh!” Suddenly, Aria remembered. She pulled from his arms, turned to the chair near the fire. There, she picked up the bundle of fabric.
When she turned around, Adam looked stricken, his shoulders bowed. And she realized what he thought. “I’m not saying no. I’m—” She lifted her arm to show what she held. “This is one of the things I wanted to find, one of the reasons I came back to this godforsaken house. I couldn’t let all of this be for nothing.”
His gaze slid down to her hands as she opened the flaps of the fabric.
Cleopatra’s necklace.
She heard Adam’s intake of air as the necklace came into view. “Patrick had this. There’s more, in the other room.” She ran a soft finger over the hammered gold.
“It’s...spectacular.” Adam put his hand out, and his fingers lightly ran over hers, then over the necklace.
She looked up, the excitement she hadn’t been able to feel when she’s heard about her father’s find coursing through her, feeding her with energy. How she had missed this feeling, this discovery, this passion for what lay ahead.
She’d worried that she’d lost that part of herself for good.
“It’s incredible, isn’t it? This is what my father has worked for his entire life. And it isn’t just the monetary value, it’s the history. This...finding this changes history.” She smiled, getting caught up in the moment, imagining her father’s face when Cleopatra’s treasures had been revealed. “This is my father’s legacy.”
Love, clear, unmistakable and very, very welcome, shone from Adam’s eyes. “You are your father’s legacy, Aria.”
With a last glance at the beauty in the ancient work, she covered it back up. She was ready to go. Ready for the future.
But Adam stood still.
She frowned. “Adam?”
“This is a part of you.”
“Yes.” There was no use in denying it. And she didn’t want to.
“I want to know that.” He shook his head. “No, I don’t just want to know about that part of you, hear about your life. I want to be a part of it—I want to share it with you. I can give you my name, my home, and we’ll build our lives there. But I want you to share your world, too.”
A lump formed in Aria’s throat, and her chest ached with a sense of contentment, of bliss she had never felt before.
They both had to heal; the pain and nightmares of the last weeks wouldn’t disappear because they’d found joy in each other.
But it certainly made facing them easier.
Adam faced her, completely open, unguarded. Equal. They were stronger together, and it humbled her.
Adam held out his hand. Aria could almost see the metal key in it from the night they’d met in Ravensdale’s bedchamber. She put her hand in his and her faith in him.
This time, he was giving her something far, far more important than a key.
“Let’s go home,” she said softly.
* * * * *
About the Author
Jeannie Ruesch wrote her first story at the age of six,
prompting her to give up an illustrious, hours-long ambition of becoming a
Dallas Cowboys cheerleader and declare that writing was her destiny. That
journey to destiny took a few detours along the way, including a career in
marketing and design.
Her first novel, a fairy tale—like historical romance, was
published in 2009, but the darker side of life had always captivated her. So
after a dinner conversation with friends about the best way to hide a dead body,
she knew she had to find a way to incorporate suspense into her writing (the
legal outlet for her fascination). Today, she continues writing what she loves
to read: stories of history, romance and suspense. She lives in Northern
California with her husband, their son and an eighty-pound lapdog Lab named
Cooper. She can be visited at
www.jeannieruesch.com
or found regularly on
Twitter and Facebook.
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ISBN-13: 9781426897849
CLOAKED IN DANGER
Copyright © 2014 by Jeannie Ruesch
Edited by Alissa Davis
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All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
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