There was no going back to last night’s joyful interlude. She clung desperately to the last threads of it, as she’d once done when she woke from a dream of running on crippled legs. But like all dreams, this too must come to an end.
Moving by the tiniest increments, she leaned back to study Morgan’s face. It had not yet taken on the harsh lines and wariness it usually wore by daylight, nor did his features reflect the surrender and abandon of their love-making. Jaw, lips, eyes, forehead, all were relaxed. Waiting. Holding fast to the peace he so seldom allowed himself.
She ached to touch him. But if he still slept, she couldn’t rob him of these moments. She wished she could sleep again and find herself in a new dream, one in which she and Morgan were together with no thought of the vast gulf that lay between them.
A raven croaked harshly among the pines outside. Morgan opened one eye and muttered an inaudible curse. His arm tightened about her as if he expected her to flee.
“Good morning,” she whispered. She kissed his cheek, challenging him to reject that homely intimacy. His jaw flexed and released. “Did you sleep well?”
He might have thought her mad for indulging in such banal civilities, as if they were an ordinary newlywed couple the first morning after their marriage—a little shy, a little awkward, still aglow with sensual discoveries and looking forward to many more such adventures to come.
But he turned his head to look at her, and all the tenderness he found so difficult to show lay raw and exposed in his eyes. “Did you?”
“Very well.” She tucked her head on his shoulder and laced her fingers through his. “I only wish…”
He stiffened. “What do you wish?”
She threw caution to the winds. “I wish that you and I could make this moment last forever.”
He sat up, taking care to let her down gently as he changed position. Athena swallowed the sudden thickness of tears and drew her knees to her chest. You have ruined it. Words… words only frighten him away.
Morgan sat with his back to the sloping cave wall just as he had last night before the loving, as unapproachable as a heathen idol carved of stone. She knew the nature of the heart that beat within his broad chest, the gentleness of which he was capable, the stubborn loyalty that belied his judgment of himself. But he wanted to pretend she did not understand.
“It’s no use, Morgan,” she said. “We cannot go back.”
He stared fiercely at the opposite wall. A gust of cold air blew in the cave mouth, lifting long black strands of hair across his face and shoulders. He made no attempt to brush them away.
“No,” he said. “You cannot go back to what you were.”
It was not what she had meant. “An invalid? Living in denial of half of myself? You’re right, Morgan. I can only go forward, as you must.”
He said nothing. She wanted to scream and jump up and down, if only to make him look at her. The closeness of their joining had been as fragile as a snowflake, evaporated in an instant of heat and passion. How could everything they had built last night have vanished so completely?
With an effort she composed herself. Violent emotion would only drive him further away. The wrong words might frighten him, but they were all she had.
“We never finished our discussion,” she said. “There is still time for you to tell me everything, Morgan. I said I would listen, and not judge. I meant it. And whether you like it or not, you can’t shut me out so easily. You see… I love you.”
The cave reverberated with her calm declaration. Her heart tripped out a frantic tattoo. Morgan blinked, once, the only sign that he had heard and understood.
“There,” she said with false lightness. “I have given you my greatest secret. I doubt that yours is any more terrifying.”
Slowly he looked at her, expressionless to any eyes but hers. “What do you want of me?”
No tears, she commanded. It is his way. It is always his way to hide when he feels too much. “I want to know what you want. I want to understand why you think you must protect me from yourself when we have given each other so much.”
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