“Would they have liked me, Jordan?” she asked, her voice almost too soft to hear, her expression so vulnerable, so filled with a hunger to belong that he wanted to kill Sorrel himself. She was so damned beautiful, kind, compassionate. Any family would be proud of her.
“Tehya, they wouldn’t be able to help themselves.” It was in that moment that he knew he was in serious trouble where those unnamed emotions for her were involved. They rose like a tidal wave inside him and threatened to swamp his normal good sense.
His arms went around her, drawing her close to him as he suddenly realized all the emotions she had hidden through the years. She had kept to herself, staying in her suite as he had done when there was no work to bury himself in.
She had fought for the same distance he had, and for similar reasons. Because the pain was too intense when the illusions were ripped away. Or, in her case, when she lost those she loved.
He should have nev
er allowed her to hide in such a way, Jordan admitted.
“It’s too late,” she whispered against his chest, her fingers curling against his shirt to hold on to him. “It’s just too late.”
It was too late to go home. Too late to be a part of a family that would never understand the woman reality had shaped. And in a way, Jordan agreed with her. Unless they had an idea of the world that had created her, then they would never be comfortable around her.
“Perhaps you can never go home,” he whispered. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t forge your own place, as Teylor Johnson.” Easing back, he stared down at her once again. “You don’t have to admit to your familial ties, Tehya, to be a part of a family. All you have to do is be willing to be a friend.”
She would be an asset to any friend or family she chose, he thought. The honesty and compassion that was so much a part of her would always draw others to her, like a moth to a flame.
As she drew him. There were days he wondered if he would ever escaped the tangled web of emotion he knew she would wrap around him if she could.
Love. Hell, that illusion was stronger, was more than he was and he knew it.
Finally she gave a short, sharp nod before turning and heading to the bed where her dress was laid out.
Letting her go was the hardest thing he had ever done. He wanted nothing more than to hold her. And to give her the one thing he swore he’d never give anyone. The illusion he suddenly wished he could convince himself of.
Love.
“I’ll finish dressing, then,” she told him quietly as she glanced at the clock. “We should have just enough time for your preferred arrival.”
He frowned back at her suspiciously. “It doesn’t take an hour to put a dress on, Tey.”
She almost smiled at the doubt in his tone, and in his face.
“True,” she agreed. “But it often takes longer than that to finish the look, Jordan. Stockings can’t have runs, the skirt has to lay just right, my makeup will have to be adjusted for the color because I didn’t expect the depth of the shimmer once the gown was completed.”
She was trying desperately to maintain her control, and Jordan had no idea how to ease the pain in her eyes. That left him with the only option at hand. A strategic retreat until she needed him to hold her, to assure her once again that there was no reason why she shouldn’t be loved.
“Enough said.” He lifted his hand to halt the subtly mocking explanation. “I’ll leave you to dressing while I discuss the security layout and the guests with the others.” He indicated the door to the rest of the suite with a sharp turn of his head. “Just let me know when you’re ready.”
“I’ll be sure to do that,” she promised as she moved to the head of the bed and loosened the material from the padded hanger it was secured to. “As I said, an hour, perhaps a bit more.”
For just as long as she could draw it out.
For some reason, Jordan seemed determined to bring her face-to-face with her family, and she had a feeling it had more to do with his belief that she should align herself with them than the belief that being there would allow him to identify who gave the orders to the men threatening her.
As much as she craved family and connections, she knew that connection had been broken with her grandparents’ deaths. All the wishing, all the tears, or all the regrets in the world couldn’t change that.
“Just be yourself, Tehya,” he reminded her again, suddenly behind her when she had expected him to leave the room.
One hand gripped her hip for a second as his head lowered and he placed a soft kiss at the curve of her shoulder. “I promise, no one could help but to love the person you are.”
Everyone but him.
“Of course.” She tried to convince him she believed it, though they both knew otherwise. “I would just prefer that it hadn’t come to this.”
He nipped her flesh, causing her to jerk and turn her head to stare back at him in surprise.