Because We Belong (Because You Are Mine #3)(99)
“He’s not going to shoot me. At least I don’t think so. He apparently had the opportunity plenty of times before and never did,” he said, still stroking her cheek, his expression thoughtful.
“That’s not all that reassuring,” she replied desperately.
“I’m sorry. If I can’t explain it to you, then I don’t know what to do,” he said in a pressured tone. “I’m telling you there are answers here for me. About Trevor Gaines. About who he was. About how I got here on this earth.”
“How is knowing all that going to make a difference to you?” she asked wildly.
He clamped his eyes together, his expression so frustrated it made it her want to weep. “I’m telling you that it makes a difference to me because it does. I’m telling you that it does, what else can I say to convince you? If I can figure things out, make sense of it in my mind—”
“But it’s mad,” she interrupted, growing frantic.
He opened his eyes slowly, spearing her with his stare. His brow furrowed slightly. Francesca froze when she saw his dawning comprehension.
“That’s what you think? That I’m going mad?”
“I . . .” She shook her head, her mind spinning. Did she think he was losing his mental facilities? “No. No,” she repeated, realizing it was true. He was emotionally overwrought, but he wasn’t a madman. She met his stare, pleading for him to understand. “I’m just . . . scared. It terrified me, thinking of you digging around in that man’s possessions, trying to understand him.”
Her shaky admission seemed to hover in the air between them.
“I’m a little scared, too,” he admitted after a moment. “But not of the same thing you are. Not of going mad. Not anymore anyway.”
“What then?” she whispered, pulling closer to his heat.
“Of not being able to understand. If I can’t wrap my head around who my biological father was, I can’t . . .” He gritted his teeth and winced. “I can’t get the poison of him out of me. I don’t know how else to put it. If you’d just let me, I can do this, Francesca. I believe it now, more than ever. With Lucien here, with all the research I’ve already compiled, even catching a glimpse of Kam Reardon’s life tonight, I’m starting to get a hold on who Trevor Gaines was.” His eyes looked a little wild as he clutched tighter at her head. “If I can’t do this, I can’t feel right about being with you forever. I don’t want to taint you—”
“You would never do that!”
“Damn it, Francesca,” he shouted harshly. “This is my worry. This is my burden, and I’m trying to make it go away. I’m not doing this to be stubborn, or because I’m going mad. I’m not doing this because I want to alienate you! I’m doing this because I have to if I want to be with you. And that’s all . . . I want . . . in the world,” he grated succinctly out between white, clenched teeth.
She just stared at him, her heart pounding, unable to draw breath.
“Ian,” she exhaled, a convulsion of emotion going through her. “Ian, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. The last thing you should be doing is apologizing,” he whispered harshly, grimacing, absorbing her shudders. “It pains me to see you in this place, but . . .” He shook his head and swallowed, loosening his hold on her and caressing her temple. “It strangely helps, too, I think. I don’t know. It’s strange. Tonight, I feel like it really is possible to maybe wrap my head around this whole nightmare. And I really don’t think it’s just because of Lucien being here, or discovering what an . . . interesting person Kam Reardon really is.”
“I don’t want you to feel alone,” she said. “If I’ve made you feel that way, because you knew I wouldn’t accept any of this, I’m sorry. That was selfish of me. I thought you were the one being selfish with all this, but I was wrong.”
He leaned down, tilting her face up. He kissed her hard. Gentle. She didn’t know which, and never did when it came to Ian. She felt his body stir and pressed closer, desirous of his heat and hardness.
“You are the most generous woman I know,” he said against her lips a moment later. “The last thing you’re being is selfish.”
“You always think this poison you speak of is going to taint me, Ian,” she murmured breathily. “But love is the strongest antidote to your fears . . . and yes . . . even against this supposed taint.” She combed her fingers through his thick, short hair, scraping his scalp. He closed his eyes and groaned. “Let me make love to you here. Right here. In the middle of all your darkness,” she said emphatically as she began to kiss his jaw, tenderly abrading her lips with his whiskers. She kissed his leaping pulse and he started.
“No,” he said harshly, running his hands along her arms and captured her wrists. He held her and stepped away. His eyes shone with barely restrained emotion. “But you came, and I can’t change that. And now that you’re here, I have to have you. I suffered too much in this very room, your absence like a gaping hole inside me. I can’t turn you away now. So I will make love to you. And then we’ll both know if what you say is true, or if I am just using you to chase away the shadows.”
He transferred her wrists to the small of her back and held them there with one hand. He bent down, forcing her back to arch, and began to devour her.