Come. He smiled, lifting the burden of her fear. He held out his hand.
Come.
Athena pressed all of her weight onto her arms and pushed up. Her feet touched the floor. Her knees quivered, but only for a moment. Then they locked, steadying her, and she rose. Slowly, carefully she stood up, the chair at her back, and swayed from the dizzying height of her own five and a half feet.
She had no time to contemplate the miracle. Morgan summoned her, his eyes ever more demanding, his fingers curled to beckon. She slid one foot along the smooth wooden floor. The second followed the first.
One step taken. Another. A third. She dared to look up from the ground again. Morgan’s eyes flashed triumph and pride—for her. But he waited—waited until she had taken all the steps between them and only one more led directly into his arms.
She made it. She reached up and wrapped her arms about his shoulders—not for support, not out of need, but because she wanted him. With her own strength she drew his face to hers. She opened her mouth and inhaled the warmth of his breath.
And she kissed him. She kissed him, free to make that choice as she was free to stand and walk and feel again.
Morgan’s mouth opened over hers, seizing what she offered. Some great mystery waited to be revealed in his embrace, a tale only he could illustrate with his lips and his tongue. She felt its erotic promise all the way down to her toes.
Let it not end too quickly. Let it never end…
“Athena.”
Something was wrong with Morgan’s voice. She opened her eyes, and the shock of reality flung her back into her chair.
The chair she had never left. She was not on her feet, not in Morgan’s arms. She remained exactly where Sterling had left her, and Morgan still waited by the hall.
All a dream. All a cruel, treacherous fantasy concocted by her addled mind. She could have wept, but many years of practice had taught her how to swallow the tears.
You forgot why you are here. You saw Morgan, and everything else disappeared, even Caitlin. This is your rightful punishment for such base selfishness.
Punishment, and a stark reminder that Morgan was not what her childish dreams made of him.
“Athena,” he said. His eyes were not welcoming, but wary. “Are you ill?”
“No.” She managed a smile. “I am quite well. How is Caitlin? I have come to make sure she is recovering as she should.”
“You came here without your brother’s permission?”
She couldn’t tell if it was censure or admiration she heard in his voice. Hadn’t he encouraged her to defy her brother in the past? “Niall is away on business.” She lifted her chin. “Will you show me to Caitlin’s room?”
He took half a step toward her, stopped, and made a strange, almost helpless gesture. “Athena. You should not have—” He shook his head, grim about the mouth. “I will take you to her.”
“Miss Athena!”
Harry swept out of the hall, barely pausing to step around Morgan, and greeted Athena with a warm smile. “Welcome, welcome! Of course I have no right whatsoever to welcome you to your own home, but we are all so glad you have come. Caitlin will be pleased—”
“How is she?”
The sparkle in his eyes dimmed. “I have been worried about her, as you know, but—” He cast a wary glance back at Morgan. “Now you are here, she will surely make progress. Morgan, would you be so good as to take Miss Athena’s bags to her room? Mr. Durant was quite plain that he was saving your chamber for you, my dear, as well as Mr. Munroe’s, in case you should come—just as he ought, of course. Not that any of us would dream of appropriating it!” He took the handles of Athena’s chair. “I confess that I feel some pity for Mr. Durant’s situation. He was not at all prepared for us, even with the addition of the extra staff your good brother hired. I understand that Mr. Durant has been caretaker here for years… but even though most of the troupers are in the bunkhouse, the poor fellow has clearly not had to deal with so many guests. In spite of our efforts to help he seems… quite annoyed.”