He almost cringed at the desperate note in his voice. In the back of his head, a nagging voice wondered if she'd lied to everyone tonight not because she cared for him as a mate, but because she didn't want to lose her magical bodyguard. He didn't want to think that, but as much as Felicia had revealed in the past few days, she was hardly an open book.
She bit her lip. "I like you very much."
Felicia liked him. Duke didn't have the courage to ask her if she loved him, or ever could.
The rest of the ride passed in silence. Because he couldn't stand to be too far from her, Duke held her hand. Though she clasped his in return, he knew tonight had rattled her.
After dodging the paparazzi outside the Dorchester, they dashed through the deserted lobby and into a waiting elevator. The doors slid shut, and he turned to Felicia, caressing his way up her bare arms. "Are you all right?"
She frowned. "I wasn't the one arrested. What about you?"
"Fine."
"How?" She shook her head. "Mason is your brother. This discord between you isn't right. It's my fault."
So that's what troubled Felicia.
A heavy weight settled in Duke's chest. He was aware that he and Mason were quickly approaching a point of no return. Another stunt like this, and Duke would be hard-pressed to forgive his younger brother. On the other hand, if another man had stolen his most precious gift, his very heart, Duke could well understand such hatred.
He'd kill any bastard who took Felicia from him.
"Our problems aren't your doing. They started long ago." He sighed. "Mason has every reason to despise me. He wanted you for himself, and I took you. With your statement, he knows he's lost you. And I'm not letting go, Felicia."
Silently, she looked away, pulled her hand back. A physical withdrawal. Duke cursed under his breath. Did she feel too guilty about hurting Mason? Or, as Duke feared, did she not love him enough to choose him forever?
In their suite, he tore through the dark rooms, frustration edging to the fore. Damn it, with Felicia it was always two steps forward, one step back. He didn't want to lose her, and pushing her now would only induce her to put new walls between them. But would she ever open her heart and give herself completely to him?
"It's wrong. I've come between two brothers and--" She choked. "I feel terrible.
Nothing ever came between Deirdre and me, ever. Until Alexei."
And that had ended in the woman's death. Duke's gut twisted.
"Mason is your friend, yes?"
"He was. I don't know if he'd still say the same."
"His anger toward you will abate." Duke couldn't believe he was consoling her, when all he wanted to do was wring Mason's neck. But anything to take that haunted look off her face. "In time, he'll heal. Move on."
"But your relationship with him will never be the same, and I don't know if I can live with that."
"Even if I'm willing to bear it?"
"Simon ..." Her voice pleaded with him.
Perhaps she meant what she said, but Duke couldn't help but think that she merely used Mason again to keep distance between them.
"What if you find one day that I'm ... not worth it?"
"That will never happen, but I could assure you until I'm blue in the face, and I'm not certain you would ever believe me. You'll have to realize that for yourself."
Tamping down his agitation, he gritted his teeth and closeted himself in the bathroom. The warm spray of the shower felt heavenly, and washing the stench and filth of jail off himself soothed him.
Long minutes later, he emerged to see that Felicia had taken off all her makeup and slipped into one of the negligees he'd had delivered to the room. Eggshell silk trimmed in delicate lace. Demure but sexy. She looked stunning. All the relaxation from his shower fled, replaced by a desire that made him edgy and hard. He ached to make love to her. To stake his claim anew.
But she needed time to come to grips with tonight's events. Damn it, somehow he'd have to give it to her. They were making progress, just not as quickly as he liked.
On the bed, she reclined, her knees curled up, a book resting on them.
He frowned. "Is that one of Merlin's books?"
She glanced up, saw the towel wrapped around his middle, and flushed. "Ah ...
yes. It is. I, um ..." She swallowed, staring at his chest. "I'm trying to find something useful in this book. Tonight proved to me we cannot keep living in this gossipmonger bubble to avoid Mathias. The only way to deal with him is to head off this threat."
"You mean, go to Morganna's tomb?"
"I don't see another choice. We're merely avoiding the inevitable."
He understood her logic ... but no. "Chasing Mathias is tantamount to a death sentence. I won't let you do anything to endanger yourself."
" Let me? I'm a grown woman. An Untouchable. The magic in that tomb can't hurt me."
Duke grabbed her shoulders tightly. "Listen, Sunshine. That's a theory. No one knows that for a fact. It's also possible that you could step one foot inside and die instantly."
"Hiding in plain sight won't work forever. You can't keep inventing a new scandal every day."
As much as he wanted to refute her, he feared she was right.
"And how long before Mathias gets desperate? What if he takes a cue from terrorists and starts bombing buildings and killing innocent humans just to reach me?"
Duke wouldn't put anything past Mathias. But how could he simply let Felicia walk into one of the most dangerous places known to magickind?
"Have you found anything useful in that book?"
She shook her head. "Odds and ends, really. The tomb was created for Morganna, 163
and Merlin himself distilled her essence into a bottle to store there."
In other words, she'd learned nothing that would guarantee her safety. Likley because no such guarantee existed.
"What if we led Mathias into the tomb, destroyed Morganna's essence before he could carry out his plan. Perhaps then we could find a way to destroy him?"
The thought horrified him. "Too risky."
"But is it possible?"
Duke said nothing. He didn't know the answer and didn't want to encourage her.
"I think we should talk to Bram," she mused.
"We aren't going to the tomb, period."
"I won't keep running. I'll never have a normal life unless Mathias is no longer a threat."
Bloody hell. That was true. Question was, what did she now see as a normal life?
One with him, or merely one in which she wasn't always looking over her shoulder for evil incarnate?
Cursing, Duke rose and found his phone. Bram answered on the first ring.
"Are you out of your bloody mind?" he screeched. "Why not take out an advertisement telling Mathias exactly where to find you and how much you love Felicia?"
Duke gritted his teeth. "Can we save the parenting for later? We have a question about Morganna's tomb. What would happen if we managed to get inside the cave and destroy her essence? Felicia would be basically useless to Mathias, yes?"
"That's possible. Mathias might come after her for mere spite, but he'd have no other reason. If Morganna's essence were destroyed, she'd be well and truly gone forever.
Another threat extinguished."
Duke paced to the next room, away from Felicia and the argument he knew she'd put up. "I can't send her in there, Bram. We need to find Mathias and kill the fucking bastard. Now!"
"Haven't we been trying? We can't even find Tynan yet, and the clock is ticking.
Maybe it's time to think about letting her try the tomb."
Duke cursed. "Would you send Emma there, not knowing if death awaited her?"
"Because of who she is, Felicia must face either Mathias or that tomb. Duke, you may not be able to spare her both."
"Shut the bloody hell up." He jammed the button, ringing off, breath harsh, heart beating furiously.
Charging back into the bedroom, he found Felicia lying across the bed with Merlin's book again. "You can't protect me from everything. I appreciate your effort but ... I'm looking for some reference on how to destroy Morganna's essence."
Duke pulled the tome from her grasp and slammed it shut. "You are not going in there. My mission is to keep you safe. Bram and the others will have to take care of Mathias."
"They can't enter that tomb without me, and they don't know how to kill him. Be reasonable, Simon. You don't want to see me in danger, and I adore you for it. But you can only protect me from so much."
That fact hurt like hell.
"Bram saw you with Mathias in his dream."
"I remember." She swallowed. "Maybe that's simply destined to become reality."
He hovered over her on the bed, faces inches apart, unable to deal with the thought of her in Mathias's grip, in pain, hurting, dead. Anguish crashed over him. He wanted so badly to grab her, kiss her, make love to her.
She read the intent on his face and looked away. "I'd like to go to sleep now."
Just like that, she shut him out again.
Panic zipped through Duke. He wanted to force her to look at him, force her to admit everything in her heart. But he was too on edge, and pushing her tonight would only be counterproductive.
"You must be tired," she prompted him. "You haven't slept in two days."
He lay down beside her and put his arms around her, relieved when she didn't resist. "Will you let me hold you?"
When she nodded, Duke placed a soft kiss on her lips. "Sleep."
Felicia curled up with her pillow. Moments later, she dropped off. He wrapped his body around hers, quaking inside.
Felicia was brave enough to run into the tomb and face the danger--but so scared to tear down the walls between them. What would it take for her to have the same courage when sharing her emotions? She cared enough to make love with him, enough to issue a statement about her relationship with him in front of Mason. What was it going to take for her to admit that she loved him?
The following morning dawned blustery and gray. Simon herded Felicia out of bed and into a waiting pair of jeans. A big down coat followed, before he urged her to throw on her trainers.
She frowned, barely awake. "It's not even seven o'clock in the morning. Where are we going?"
He thrust a cup of tea in her hands. "Will you trust me and come along?"
He was secretive, a bit edgy. But he'd never hurt her. How could she say no?
"All right. No hints?"
Duke took her hand with a grim expression and led her out of the room.
In front of the hotel, a horde of reporters awaited, loitering near the entrance, springing into action as soon as they appeared.
"Did Hurstgrove rape you?" shouted one.
"Did you lie about the abduction to set him free?"
"Do you have Stockholm syndrome?"
God, she was bloody tired of their questions. "No comment."
She darted away from the scene, Simon holding her hand and running with her.
They dashed into the waiting limousine and Felicia waited to hear his instructions to the driver, but he said nothing as the car pulled away.
"What is this about?" she demanded.
He swallowed. "You'll see. Then we'll talk."
Minutes later, they wound down a series of familiar roads. Buildings thinned out.
Wrought iron gates appeared, age-worn but strong, with horror she recognized the cemetery where her entire family was buried.
Felicia tensed. "Why are we here?"
"When was the last time you visited your sister?"
The day of her funeral. She'd arranged to have flowers laid at Deirdre's grave 165
regularly, but hadn't found the fortitude to bring them herself.
"What does that have to do with anything? Take me back to the hotel!"
"When?"
"I'm not going out there. Mathias could--"
"Bram and Ice are meeting us for protection. Mathias won't come near you."
"It's cold," she blurted.
"I'll keep you warm. But that isn't your real objection."
"Why are you doing this?" She cried out as he opened the car door and tugged on her hand. "Don't ... please."
He clenched his jaw. "It goes against everything inside me to force you to do anything, but I want to help you. You need to face your fears. Deirdre died and you let part of yourself die with her. Or did it happen even before that?"
Fear struck down to her very core. Felicia dug in her heels, seeing Bram standing a hundred meters to her left. Ice hovered like a statue an equal distance to her right. Even if she ran, they'd catch her. Or, if he was hovering near, Mathias would.
"Is this your way of making me vulnerable to you, to rip me wide open? I-I won't.
God, don't make me."
"Yes, I want you to open up to me, love me. But do you think I'd hurt you voluntarily to get my way?"
No, but saying that was like giving him permission to unravel her past and shove it in her face.
"I'm sorry you think that." He clenched his jaw, eyes looking suspiciously glossy.
"I love you, and I wish like hell you could believe me--and yourself--and trust that I'm doing this for you so you can find peace. And eventually feel free enough to love."