Chapter 10: Her Door, His

Morven's POV

At two in the morning I knocked on the door of the guest house.

I had said I would keep my own door.

I had meant it.

It turned out I could keep my own door and still walk to someone else's.

Duncan opened it in his shirtsleeves, with his hair on end and a book in one hand.

He looked at me, and the book went down on the floor.

"Morven. What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Is it the kitchen? Is it Dane?"

"Nothing happened. I'm going into that house tomorrow, and I wanted something of my own first."

I had practiced the line on the walk over.

It sounded worse out loud, and it was still true.

He stepped back from the doorway and said nothing.

I went in and shut the door behind me.

The room was small and warm, with a stove going and one lamp lit.

He stood with his back against the far wall, and he was very careful not to come near me.

"I'll say one thing first," he said. "If this is about Dane, if you're still..."

"Still what?"

"If some part of you wants him back, I won't touch you."

"I'll sit in that chair and watch you leave, and I'll be fine."

"You won't be fine."

"No," he said. "But I'll do it."

I looked at him for a long time.

Seven years of one man telling me he was sorry, and here was another telling me he'd let me go.

"Shut up and come here," I said.

He did.

He crossed the room in three strides and I met him halfway.

I got his shirt open with both hands and put my mouth on his collarbone.

He made that sound again, low and raw.

He lifted me against him, and my legs went around his hips.

He carried me to the bed and laid me on my back.

Then he stopped, with his hands flat on the blanket on either side of my head.

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