The Unquiet - J. D. Robb [121]
Without warning, strong hands took the phone and tossed it aside, ending the connection. But not the pain. The pain continued in waves.
Arms came around her, holding her while she wept bitter tears, and her poor heart shattered into millions of tiny pieces until her throat was raw and her eyes swollen.
At last, drained by such intense emotions, she gave a shuddering sigh and pushed free of the comforting embrace. She accepted a handkerchief and wiped her tears before looking up.
She gave a gasp of surprise. She’d thought, for just a moment . . .
“Jamie.”
“I know that I promised to give you your privacy tonight. But I heard you cry out, and wanted to help.”
“Thank you.” She crushed the handkerchief against her mouth to keep her lips from trembling.
She dropped to the edge of the mattress and glanced around in sudden knowledge. “There’s no telephone by the bed.”
“Nay.”
“It was all a dream?” The truth dawned. A horrible, hateful dream. So real, she could still feel the pain of it.
Jamie dropped to his knees before her, his eyes steady on hers. In the faint light cast by the glowing coals of the fire, he could read her anguish.
“I can’t believe how real it all seemed.” She took in a breath and shook her head, as though unable to accept the truth. “A . . . dream.”
“ A bad one, from the looks of you. How can I help?”
“You can’t.” She looked away, ashamed of such a display of emotion in the presence of this stranger. “Nobody can.”
“I’d like to try.” He took her hands in his. “You’re cold.”
“I’m fine.”
He crossed to the fireplace and stirred the coals before adding a fresh log and kindling. Within minutes a fire blazed.
He returned to sit beside her on the edge of the bed. “Is that better?”
She nodded. “Much. Thank you.”
“Would you like to talk?”
She shook her head. “I’m not ready to talk about it.”
“I understand.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, lending her his warmth as well as his support.
As they sat in companionable silence, Bree thought how comforting it was to have him here. A mortal would have expected some sort of explanation. Jamie was quite content to allow her to deal with her grief in her own way, in her own time.
Time.
“You told me that time often passed in the blink of an eye, though at other times it seemed to slow to the pace of a snail.”
“It’s true. I only knew time was passing by watching the wee ones who were born, and then grew old and died, while I remained here in this place.”
“How I wish I could stop time, and even reverse it. If only I could go back to those glorious days when all the possibilities had seemed endless. The entire world had been mine. I’d felt so alive. So filled with joy and hope and love.”
When Jamie remained silent, she gave a short laugh. “Listen to me. Love. The very word mocks me now.”
She sighed and Jamie’s arm tightened. Without thinking, she leaned into him and turned her face against his throat. “Oh, what a fool I’ve been.”
He gathered her close and pressed his mouth to a tangle of hair at her temple. “ As I recall, ’tis the way of mortals.”
“Maybe. But I’m the biggest fool of all.” One wet tear slipped from the corner of her eye.
Jamie framed her face with his hands and, frowning, kissed the tear away. “No more tears, lass. No man is worth them.”
She glanced up at him and shivered at the intensity of his look. “I know. I’m afraid you’ll have to allow me my weakness. I’ve tried so hard to be strong, but this storm has been building for such a long time.”
“ A storm. Aye. I’d know a thing or two about them. A storm has been building inside me as well.”
For the longest moment he merely stared at her with a look she couldn’t fathom.
Then, ever so slowly, he lowered his face to hers and covered her mouth in a kiss that sent heat rushing through her veins.
He lingered over her lips, teasing, tasting, as though learning some long-forgotten pleasure.
When at last he lifted his head, he saw the look of surprise in her eyes. And something more. The warmth of desire his kiss had awakened.
“Ye can tell me to leave now.” His voice was thick