Broken Dove
Page 84
My heart thumped so hard it hurt.
“Away? You mean, he’s gone?”
“No. Not yet, but he’s preparing to go and will be leaving soon and with haste. He has a long journey and must make it in time for the gale.”
Shit!
“I really need to talk with him, Achilles.”
He hesitated a moment and I had to give it to him, his voice was kind when he lowered the boom.
“He would not welcome this talk, little bug.”
Shit!
Apollo had spoken to Achilles or he’d also been in a dark mood and Achilles, not a dim bulb by a long shot, had read it.
“I still need to do it,” I declared with more bravado than bravery.
He held my eyes an excruciatingly long moment before he nodded. “Then he’s in his room. Do you know where that is?”
I had not officially been shown there but during my tour I’d hit the master’s bedchamber. I knew it was that because it was mammoth, richly appointed (and since everything else was seriously appointed, that room being richly appointed was saying something) and awesome.
It also smelled like his cologne and, well, him.
“I do,” I told Achilles.
“Then go,” he urged.
I smiled a shaky smile and took off toward the wide, carved wooden staircase.
I went as fast as I could go because with every step I was losing the nerve to take the next one.
What if he was still pissed and was an ass**le again?
What if in the last four days he’d figured out I wasn’t worth it?
What if I got there and screwed everything up, said something stupid and damaged what was already broken to the point it couldn’t be repaired?
These thoughts assailed me as I made it to his rooms and saw the door open.
Without knocking, I ran in.
His rooms were decorated in cream, jade and browns, mostly the latter two. He also had a small anteroom that I couldn’t imagine he used much mostly because it contained nothing but a handsome round table with a carved support that had four clawed feet. This sat next to a coffee-brown leather chaise lounge overhung with a floor lamp.
I moved through, turned right to face where his massive bedroom was and stopped dead.
Apollo was prowling through the room, swinging his cloak over his shoulder, his head down so he could watch his hand catch the strap under his arm. His tall, powerful body in motion, that cloak flying out behind him, his thick chocolate brown wool turtleneck and matching breeches, I forgot what a commanding presence he had and my mouth went dry.
His head came up and he stopped too.
That was when my heart stopped.
Because without a flash, not even a flicker, he gave me nothing. His eyes settled on me and they were blank, his beautiful face carved from stone.
There was no warmth. There was also no anger. Definitely no tenderness.
There was nothing.
I was too late.
“Now is not a good time, Madeleine,” he stated, holding my eyes as he started walking again, buckling his cloak on his chest. “I’m away on an important errand and need to leave immediately.”
He passed me and I turned with him at the same time I forced my lips to move.
“What I have to say is important,” I told him.
He again stopped and turned to me. “Then say it. And quickly.”
It was a lot less attractive, him being bossy and arrogant when he was looking at me with his beautiful eyes void of emotion.
No. Not attractive.
It was crushing.
“I…well, I thought you’d want to know, I’m, um…not pregnant.”
Crap!
That wasn’t what I wanted to say!
“Excellent,” he returned, his voice cold and he again moved as if he was going to leave.
“Wait!” I cried, taking a step toward him but I halted when he again turned to me.
When I got his eyes, the words clogged in my throat and he finally gave me something.
Remote impatience.
“Madeleine, as I told you, I need to leave immediately.” He swept me top to toe with a glance and finished, “If you have concerns about my absence, you’ve nothing to fear while I’m away. You’ll be protected. Most of my men have returned and the property is heavily guarded. And Lavinia is en route. She will ensure that the witch I’ve engaged has made certain no enchantments can be cast on the house or the grounds.”
“I…that’s good,” I stammered. “Thank you. But, Apollo,—I took a tentative step toward him— “we have to talk.”
“If you have something to discuss with me, you can do it when I return in three weeks.”
Three weeks! He was going to be gone for three weeks?
“Now I must go,” he finished.
He gave me his back and started to the door.
Without even a good-bye.
I closed my eyes and looked to the floor, my throat closing.
I was right, I was too late.
“Are you going to come with me, or are you going to stand in my bedchamber staring at the floor?” he asked and my head shot up. His first words were a ray of hope that he meant to take me with him. But when I caught his eyes, his next words smothered that ray. “I’ll escort you to the front door and have a man take you to the dower house.”
Yes.
Too late.
“You’re in a hurry. You don’t need to trouble yourself with me. I can get to the house, don’t worry,” I said quietly.
“Madeleine, it’s snowing and now doing it heavily,” he replied with clearly strained patience.
I looked to the windows and saw he was right. The snow was coming down a lot harder now.
I kept my eyes to the window and told him, “I’ll be okay.”
“You’ll be more okay escorted by one of my men.”
I looked to him and he was wavy through the tears that had formed in my eyes but I swallowed and pushed out, “I’ll be fine.”
He didn’t move so I did.
Dipping my chin to stare at my feet, I walked his way and when I got close, I murmured, “Be safe on your journey, Apollo.”
I didn’t get by him. He caught my bicep in his hand and brought me up short.
I drew in a deep breath and tipped my head back to look at him.
“Are you distressed you aren’t with child?” he asked and I forced another swallow down a now swollen throat.
God.
Men.
In any world, they were totally clueless.
“No,” I answered, my voice croaky.
“Then would you care to share why you walked through the snow to speak with me?”
“You’re away on an important errand,” I reminded him. “It can wait.”
“Away? You mean, he’s gone?”
“No. Not yet, but he’s preparing to go and will be leaving soon and with haste. He has a long journey and must make it in time for the gale.”
Shit!
“I really need to talk with him, Achilles.”
He hesitated a moment and I had to give it to him, his voice was kind when he lowered the boom.
“He would not welcome this talk, little bug.”
Shit!
Apollo had spoken to Achilles or he’d also been in a dark mood and Achilles, not a dim bulb by a long shot, had read it.
“I still need to do it,” I declared with more bravado than bravery.
He held my eyes an excruciatingly long moment before he nodded. “Then he’s in his room. Do you know where that is?”
I had not officially been shown there but during my tour I’d hit the master’s bedchamber. I knew it was that because it was mammoth, richly appointed (and since everything else was seriously appointed, that room being richly appointed was saying something) and awesome.
It also smelled like his cologne and, well, him.
“I do,” I told Achilles.
“Then go,” he urged.
I smiled a shaky smile and took off toward the wide, carved wooden staircase.
I went as fast as I could go because with every step I was losing the nerve to take the next one.
What if he was still pissed and was an ass**le again?
What if in the last four days he’d figured out I wasn’t worth it?
What if I got there and screwed everything up, said something stupid and damaged what was already broken to the point it couldn’t be repaired?
These thoughts assailed me as I made it to his rooms and saw the door open.
Without knocking, I ran in.
His rooms were decorated in cream, jade and browns, mostly the latter two. He also had a small anteroom that I couldn’t imagine he used much mostly because it contained nothing but a handsome round table with a carved support that had four clawed feet. This sat next to a coffee-brown leather chaise lounge overhung with a floor lamp.
I moved through, turned right to face where his massive bedroom was and stopped dead.
Apollo was prowling through the room, swinging his cloak over his shoulder, his head down so he could watch his hand catch the strap under his arm. His tall, powerful body in motion, that cloak flying out behind him, his thick chocolate brown wool turtleneck and matching breeches, I forgot what a commanding presence he had and my mouth went dry.
His head came up and he stopped too.
That was when my heart stopped.
Because without a flash, not even a flicker, he gave me nothing. His eyes settled on me and they were blank, his beautiful face carved from stone.
There was no warmth. There was also no anger. Definitely no tenderness.
There was nothing.
I was too late.
“Now is not a good time, Madeleine,” he stated, holding my eyes as he started walking again, buckling his cloak on his chest. “I’m away on an important errand and need to leave immediately.”
He passed me and I turned with him at the same time I forced my lips to move.
“What I have to say is important,” I told him.
He again stopped and turned to me. “Then say it. And quickly.”
It was a lot less attractive, him being bossy and arrogant when he was looking at me with his beautiful eyes void of emotion.
No. Not attractive.
It was crushing.
“I…well, I thought you’d want to know, I’m, um…not pregnant.”
Crap!
That wasn’t what I wanted to say!
“Excellent,” he returned, his voice cold and he again moved as if he was going to leave.
“Wait!” I cried, taking a step toward him but I halted when he again turned to me.
When I got his eyes, the words clogged in my throat and he finally gave me something.
Remote impatience.
“Madeleine, as I told you, I need to leave immediately.” He swept me top to toe with a glance and finished, “If you have concerns about my absence, you’ve nothing to fear while I’m away. You’ll be protected. Most of my men have returned and the property is heavily guarded. And Lavinia is en route. She will ensure that the witch I’ve engaged has made certain no enchantments can be cast on the house or the grounds.”
“I…that’s good,” I stammered. “Thank you. But, Apollo,—I took a tentative step toward him— “we have to talk.”
“If you have something to discuss with me, you can do it when I return in three weeks.”
Three weeks! He was going to be gone for three weeks?
“Now I must go,” he finished.
He gave me his back and started to the door.
Without even a good-bye.
I closed my eyes and looked to the floor, my throat closing.
I was right, I was too late.
“Are you going to come with me, or are you going to stand in my bedchamber staring at the floor?” he asked and my head shot up. His first words were a ray of hope that he meant to take me with him. But when I caught his eyes, his next words smothered that ray. “I’ll escort you to the front door and have a man take you to the dower house.”
Yes.
Too late.
“You’re in a hurry. You don’t need to trouble yourself with me. I can get to the house, don’t worry,” I said quietly.
“Madeleine, it’s snowing and now doing it heavily,” he replied with clearly strained patience.
I looked to the windows and saw he was right. The snow was coming down a lot harder now.
I kept my eyes to the window and told him, “I’ll be okay.”
“You’ll be more okay escorted by one of my men.”
I looked to him and he was wavy through the tears that had formed in my eyes but I swallowed and pushed out, “I’ll be fine.”
He didn’t move so I did.
Dipping my chin to stare at my feet, I walked his way and when I got close, I murmured, “Be safe on your journey, Apollo.”
I didn’t get by him. He caught my bicep in his hand and brought me up short.
I drew in a deep breath and tipped my head back to look at him.
“Are you distressed you aren’t with child?” he asked and I forced another swallow down a now swollen throat.
God.
Men.
In any world, they were totally clueless.
“No,” I answered, my voice croaky.
“Then would you care to share why you walked through the snow to speak with me?”
“You’re away on an important errand,” I reminded him. “It can wait.”
