“I know, de
arest.” Bending, she embraced him carefully, mindful of his injury. “But if you ever dare become involved in something so dangerous again and try to shoulder the burden all yourself, I swear I truly will shoot you myself.”
A short while later she stood at the window of her bedchamber, waiting for her husband to come… for her fate to be decided.
Her farewell to Gray had been bittersweet, filled with both relief and sadness. She’d watched as her brother was carried away on a stretcher, knowing how fortunate he was to be given a second chance.
Would she be given the same chance?
Brynn shivered as she stared out at the night. The storm had apparently passed them by, leaving a few clouds of mist scudding across the dark sky. The faint moonlight painted the ocean silver, transforming it into a cold, flickering mirror.
She felt just as cold; she felt empty, aching. She wouldn’t blame Lucian in the least if he hated her for what she had done.
Trying not to think about it, Brynn busied herself stoking the fire. She froze when she heard the door to her bedchamber open and then slowly shut. Hardly daring to breathe, she turned to face Lucian.
He stood just inside the room, his features eclipsed by shadow, much as he had looked earlier in the evening when she’d attempted to drug him.
Was that only hours ago?
He was the first to speak. “How is your arm?”
“It throbs a little, but it’s nothing, really. Merely a flesh wound.”
His eyes narrowed as he stepped into the light. “I don’t consider a bullet wound ‘nothing.” That was a damned foolish thing to do, Brynn, lunging in front of me.“
“You’re welcome,” she retorted, stung to defiance by his criticism.
His voice was unnervingly quiet when he replied. “You could have been killed.”
She couldn’t tell whether that prospect would have saddened him or not. “Would it have mattered to you?”
“Certainly it would have mattered.” There was a moment’s pause before he added, “You are carrying my child, did you consider that?”
Brynn’s hand went to her abdomen in dismay. “No, I didn’t stop to think.”
He moved toward her, his gaze piercing as it bored relentlessly into her. “You didn’t realize you were endangering our child?”
“Not at that moment. All I thought about was that Jack meant to shoot you and that I had to stop him.”
Lucian halted a short distance from her. She could see the tightness in his face, could sense the thrumming tension coiled in his hard, elegant body.
She regarded him in mute wretchedness. He cared deeply about their child, she knew, but did he care about her in the least? Perhaps he couldn’t forgive her for her crimes after all.
“I’m sorry,” she said finally, miserably.
To her shock, Lucian reached up to touch her cheek. “No, I am the one who should be sorry. For doubting you. You saved my life, Brynn.” Her breath caught as his thumb brushed the corner of her mouth. “You terrified me,” he whispered. “I thought I would die of fear when you stepped in front of that bullet.”
She returned his searching gaze, unable to speak for the hope filling her.
“My dream was wrong, wasn’t it?” Lucian murmured. “In my nightmare, you are standing over me as I lie dying. You want me dead. But you couldn’t want my death if you were willing to give your life for me.”
“That dream is terribly wrong.” Brynn felt tears spring to her eyes. “Your death is the last thing I would ever want.” She gazed up at him earnestly. “I know I betrayed you, Lucian, but I only wanted to keep you safe. Even if you can never forgive me… I did it for you.”
“I know that now, love. I regret I ever distrusted you. I should have listened to my heart, not my head.”
She gazed at him with longing. “Your heart?”
Taking her hand, he pressed her palm to his chest. “I love you, Brynn. I have for a long time, even though I refused to acknowledge it.”