Her large black eyes flashed with sudden anger at the suggestion. “That’s beneath you, Brice,” she pointed out softly.
“Francesca, please. Don’t do this.” Brice circled her waist with his arm, but as he drew her close to his body he was very much aware he had crossed some line.
At once she was uncomfortable, stiff. She could smell his cologne and though it was expensive, it made her feel slightly nauseated. It was strange, she had always rather liked his cologne, yet now she thought only of the way Gabriel smelled, his musky, male scent. Was that part of the ritual, the binding? Did it make it impossible for her to touch another man? Was that the secret the men of their race held over the women? She shoved an impatient hand through her hair, found her fingers were trembling. Maybe there was a way to undo what the ritual words had wrought. After all, she had done the impossible: she had found a way to walk among humans in the noonday sun. Gabriel might have reversed her accomplishment, but that didn’t negate the fact that she had done what no other Carpathian ever had.
“I’m not doing anything, Brice. I don’t know what to do, so I’m not doing a single thing. I’m not asking you to put your life on hold or asking you to wait. I’ve always told you to find a sweet girl and settle down.” Francesca brushed her hair away, a nervous gesture she rarely made.
“I love you, Francesca,” Brice said unhappily. “I’m not about to run out and find another woman. You’re the one I want. I can’t say I like the idea of a former husband staying at your house, but I don’t want you shutting me out because you think I can’t handle it.”
Francesca shook her head. “I can’t handle it, Brice. You have no idea how confused I feel. I’d rather not talk about it any more right now. What if I just look at this patient for you?”
Brice caught at her arm and slowed his pace to prevent her from entering the hospital. “Do you love him?”
Francesca let out her breath slowly, wanting to be entirely truthful. “How could I when I haven’t seen him for so long? I don’t know him. I haven’t let myself know him; I don’t want to know him right now. I can tell you I think he’s courageous and I admire him as I’ve never admired anyone else in my life. And he deserves to have a good life. I just don’t necessarily want to be part of it.”
Brice swore silently to himself. “You don’t owe him anything. I don’t care if he was your husband. You sound as though you think you owe him, but you owe him absolutely nothing. I don’t care if he was a secret agent and saved the world. He can’t just come back here and decide he wants you again.”
Gabriel had saved the world, probably more than once. And with a powerful vampire loose in the city, he would once again protect humans at great risk to his own life. He had given up his chance at happiness, had given up family, emotions and colors. He had done more than risk his life, he had risked his very soul to keep mortals and immortals alike safe. He had no real existence; even his own kind feared his power. He was completely alone. Gabriel. Her heart ached for him as much as her mind rebelled against his hold over her.
“Gabriel is different, Brice. I can’t explain him to you. I’ve had a difficult evening and I’m asking you to drop the subject for a while. I can’t give you the answer you want to hear and if you push me, I would have to say no, there’s no hope for us and just forget it.” She rubbed at her throbbing temples. “What about this patient of yours? Do you want help or not?”
Brice shook his head, trying to hide his frustration. “All right, Francesca, have it your way. We’ll shelve it for now, but I wish you’d throw him out or take him to one of those shelters you’re always funding. One of them ought to have a bed for him.”