Chapter Twenty-One

The sky was inky black when they arrived at the manor, pinpricks of light scattered over the darkness above like diamonds. Concern had long since usurped Dante’s anger. Elsa had hardly spoken to him after they left the gallery. During the drive home, she sat on the opposite side of the car, never once reaching for his hand.

In the foyer, she placed her feathered mask on a side table and stood with her back to him. Not knowing what else to do, Dante pulled the bundle from his pocket that held the remnants of his own mask and set it next to hers.

Hoping to draw her into conversation, he said, “Your friends are every bit as gracious as I would expect from knowing you.”

“You really felt comfortable, even without your mask?”

“Very much so.”

Elsa smiled at last, and the light he loved so dearly returned to her eyes for a moment. They were still pinched, as if she were in great pain, but did not wish him to know.

“I’m glad it was such a good experience. I hope that you understand things better now. Your options.”

“Options?”

“You’ve seen that people will accept you as you are.”

“You have already shown me that. I do not care what others think, only you.”

She winced and her smile vanished. “I’m not the only person who accepts you. I wanted you to know that. You can have other relationships. Other friends.”

“Friends.” He let the word roll around on his tongue. He did not like the taste of it at all. Not when speaking of himself and Elsa.

“And more, if you’d like.”

His gaze snapped back to hers, but she was staring very pointedly at the tile floor. She had gone quite pale. Dante’s heart started thundering in his chest. It was a wonder she did not hear it, standing so close at his side.

“Rachel seemed fascinated by you.” Elsa’s voice was reedy. She cleared her throat before continuing. “So did the other women that approached you after your dance. I wanted you to know that you don’t have to change to have relationships with other people.”

“I am not certain that I understand.”

“That’s because I haven’t told you about this yet.”

Her features were pulled so tight, she looked as though she might shatter at any moment. Her eyes had become glassy, and she had to clear her throat again before continuing.

“I know that this has caused you grief throughout your life.” She reached up and gently stroked the right side of his face. Her fingers were as delicate as feathers. “I’ve heard other people say worse things to you than what that man at the dance tonight said. I know it affects you more than you show.”

“Elsa—” Before he could say more, she silenced him, sliding her thumb across his lips with that same maddening touch. She stepped in closer, resting both of her hands on his shoulders.

“We’ve been focusing on the technological advancements that have occurred since your time, but there have been medical advances too. We haven’t talked about them yet. But it’s possible that you might be able to have reconstructive surgery to remove some of your scars. We still need to work out your identity issue, but if you want, we can talk to Garrett about whether you’re a good candidate.”

“Is this what you want for me, then? To change how I look?”

“Absolutely not!” The fierceness of her tone left no doubt she meant what she said. “I don’t care what you look like. All I care about is who you are.”

Dante stepped closer, leaving very little space between them. He dared to rest his hands on her waist. “I believe you.”

“You just have to know that you have options.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, yet he could feel the longing in each word.

“And what of you? Are you one of my options?”

She stiffened, but did not pull away. A flush spread across her chest, creeping up from the pale gold silk of her bodice.

Dante was done resisting. He leaned toward her and pressed his lips gently against hers.

Elsa trembled in his arms, her hands sliding up to clutch the back of his neck. He deepened the kiss, and her breath came out in a moan as she pulled him even closer.

Tangling her fingers in his hair to keep him captive, suddenly it was she who kissed him, and with a stunning ardor. Her lips were silken fire, starved for him. When she slid her tongue against his lips, he groaned in response to her invitation.

Elsa, his Elsa, warm and soft in his arms. This is what he had been longing for.

His tongue delved between her lips, a prelude of what was to come. He wrapped his arms around her, pressing their bodies together, desperate to be closer.

She gripped his shoulders and pushed him away, breaking off their kiss. Her chest rose and fell in quick breaths. The same desire he felt was mirrored in her eyes.

He could not form words to express what he was feeling. Hope, joy, expectation. All fell short of the immensity of his emotion.

Dante pulled her against his chest, burying his face in her hair. He breathed her in, the scent of roses making him dizzy, the taste of her still sweet upon his lips.

“No.” She shook her head and pushed him more firmly. His arms fell to his sides as she stepped away. “I can’t do this.”

He did not understand what had happened. She shook her head again, and held out one arm as if to ward him off.

“Elsa, I love you.”

Of course. That one small word held everything that he felt for her within it.

“Are you sure?”

His blood was a deafening rush in his ears. He wondered if he had heard her correctly. “That I love you? I am certain of it.”

She shook her head again, backing away as if she was afraid of him. His heart lurched in his chest. He had seen a similar look too many times before, but never from Elsa.

“You are my life.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” She closed her eyes and pressed her hands to her chest as if to keep her heart from leaping out.

“Tell me.” His throat was ready to collapse on itself from the weight of his emotion.

When she opened her eyes, they glistened with unshed tears. Her lip quivered for a moment, and she shook her head.

At first, he thought she was rejecting him, but then she said, “How can you know you love me? How would you ever know for sure? I brought you here and gave you a home, a new life. How will we ever know if it’s love or gratitude?”

“Elsa—” Dante took a small step toward her.

“No.” She was building up her walls, brick by brick, word by word, putting distance between them. A panicky feeling fluttered up from his stomach. “I know you. You’d stay, even if you realized later that it wasn’t love. You’d stay from a sense of honor. I don’t want that. I never wanted that.”

“What do you want?”

His question seemed to break her.

“I want you! I’ve always wanted you. For years!” Tears spilled down her cheeks as a torrent of words flew from her lips. “The first time I saw you, you were trying to save Heinrich. I could see the love and the pain and the fear in your eyes. And then I watched you with Mary, how kind you were to her, how encouraging. And I’m sorry that I watched you without you knowing. I never thought that we would meet.”

“I have already forgiven that.”

She continued as if she had not heard him. “All the torment others heaped on you, the pain you bore, and you never once complained to anyone. You never told anyone, but I saw how it tore at your soul, how it pushed you down to your knees. I know that pain, that weight. I’ve lived with it every day of my life. But I never knew anyone could be as strong as you.”

He knew her powers made her feel isolated, that she felt she could not trust anyone with knowledge of her gift. He did not realize how very much that loneliness was costing her. He had no time to think on it, as she kept on, her voice rising.

“And now you’re here and all I can think is that you’re only interested in me because I’m the only woman you know who accepts you. I thought if you met someone else, maybe if things didn’t work out between you, eventually we could…”

Her voice broke, and she covered her face with her hands. “I knew I had to let you go, but then I watched you dance with Rachel tonight and talk to those other women, and it hurt so much. So much more than I thought it would.”

She shook her head as if trying to clear it of a nightmare. Dante could bear no more.

With two strides, he closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around her again. He held her against his chest as she shuddered and cried.

She had not said that she loved him, but the intensity of her emotion left him with no doubt of how she felt. The depths of her pain were as great as her passion. He had to help her understand that his love was real.

“You are the strongest woman I have ever known. There is no other woman I want to be with. Yes, you have given me much, and your generosity is part of why I love you, but it is so much more than that. I would know a feeling of obligation. I would know if it was gratitude. I am grateful, of course, but that is not the summation of what I feel for you.”

He pulled her from him through an act of will, tilting her face up so he could look into her eyes. “Do you think that I have not watched you as well? How tenderly you care for Winston, how passionately you look after your friends? You are kind, intelligent, brave and beautiful. How could I not love you?”

“How can you be sure?” she whispered.

“I know my heart. And I believe I know yours. You defied time to bring me here with you. Let me be with you.”

“Bringing you back was nothing compared to this.” She backed away once more, shaking her head. “You’re wrong about me. I’m not brave.”

Without another word, she turned away, then walked up the stairs.

Dante did not know what to do. If Elsa would not trust him, how could they possibly have a life together?

He took the stairs slowly, following her path toward his own room. He paused before her door. For once, it was closed.

This was ludicrous. He loved her and he believed she loved him, whether she would admit it to herself or not. They wanted each other, wanted to be together. Fear should not stand in their way. He would not let it.

He opened the door.

Elsa was curled on her side in bed, the lamp dim beside her. She sat up and stared at him.

He hesitated for a moment on the threshold, then crossed into her room and quietly closed the door behind him. “You are mistaken about me as well.”

“About what?”

“You think I am overwhelmed with gratitude for all you have given me.” He started to close the space between them.

She stood as he approached, as nervous as a bird trying to decide whether to take flight. He would not let it happen. He would not let her deny them the infinite possibilities of being together.

Dante stopped quite close to her. She had to crane her neck to look up at him. Errant locks of her golden hair spilled over her shoulder as she did. He slid his fingers along her skin, nudging her hair back so that he could see the gooseflesh that followed in the wake of his touch. He let the silence stretch on.

“How was I wrong?”

“I am grateful, yes. You have given me a home, companionship, friendship. But I am the most selfish being on this earth.”

“No, you’re not. How can you say that?”

“Because it is not enough. You have given me an entire world, and it’s not enough. I want you.”