Broken Dove (Fantasyland #4)(171)

“You didn’t know what to do?” I asked, my voice sounding as shocked as it was.

“No idea,” he answered firmly and it was not an admission.

It was a declaration.

Oh dear.

I had already started to feel something. A lot of somethings. A lot of big somethings.

But now I was feeling more.

And part of that was confusion.

“You didn’t spend the last two days preparing to send me to Estranvegue?”

Suddenly, he dropped his hand and leaned away.

“Where did you hear of Estranvegue?” he asked in an eerily calm voice that I had the distinct feeling was not calm at all.

Uh-oh.

“It doesn’t matter,” I answered quickly.

“Oh yes,” he returned. “It does.”

“Apollo—”

“Where did you hear of Estranvegue?” he pushed.

I stared him in the eyes and didn’t answer.

I had a more important question. I’d already asked it but I still couldn’t believe it.

So I asked it again.

“You’re in love with me?”

“Yes, Madeleine,” he bit out. “Now, where did you hear of Estranvegue?”

He was in love with me.

Apollo Ulfr (the good one) was in love with me.

Oh my God.

Oh yes.

I was feeling something.

Something big.

“You’re in love with me,” I breathed.

“Yes,” he clipped and his hand came back to curl around the side of my neck and he again bent close. “I’ll ask again, poppy, where—?”

I cut him off with, “Why?”

He clamped his mouth shut then opened it to ask, “Why?”

“Yes. Why?”

He shook his head in confusion. “Why what?”

“Why are you in love with me?”

He blinked before he lifted his other hand to the other side of my neck, his eyes locked with mine, and asked in return, “Why aren’t you answering my question?”

“Because it’s obviously more important to know why you’re in love with me and because I’ll get someone in trouble if I answer your question,” I finally answered.

“You ask a question that has no answer,” he returned. “Now answer mine which actually does.”

Really?

He thought my question had no answer?

Honestly, I could not believe that men in this world, just like in my own, thought they could get away with that “I love you because I love you so just believe it and let me get back to the ballgame” nonsense.

Well, this man couldn’t.

I mean, there was no ballgame to get back to. It was a war, and, well, a bunch of other stuff.

But still.

“It has an answer, Apollo,” I retorted.

“You are correct. It does,” he declared. “It has an answer that would take a decade to speak out loud. But, as you seem determined to have it, in an attempt to put it succinctly, I fell in love with you because I brought you to this world, a world all new to you, and turned my back on you. You didn’t grow morose and retreat into yourself. You didn’t become frightened, get overwhelmed by your fears and lock yourself away. You challenged a chef to a cooking duel over seafood.”

I stared at him thinking that I did do that.

I didn’t know it was hot-guy-from-another-world-love-worthy, but I did it.

Apollo kept talking.

“I fell in love with you because I was in a battle to the death and you didn’t run, even when I told you to. You retrieved my sword and smashed a man on the head with a lamp in an effort to aid me.”

I continued to stare mostly because I’d been so engrossed in all that was happening, I actually kind of forgot I did that.

That was something Finnie would do.

And the warrior queen Circe.

And, well, me.

Apollo continued to talk.

“Further, the most beautiful, most intelligent women I know have been torn to shreds in Franka Drakkar’s claws. She got hold of you and you didn’t blink.” He paused and scowled at me. “Until she struck deeper and you let it sink in then fester without speaking to me about it. That last is not part of why I love you, but it’s part of you so it also is. Even though, at this point, it’s bloody frustrating.”

I wanted it, I’d demanded it, but I could take no more.

So I whispered, “You can stop talking now.”

“Certainly,” he replied. “Though I will only do so noting that I have not scratched the surface. For instance, I’ve not mentioned how it feels to have you give your body to me so freely, this freeing me in a manner I never had before. A manner I treasure. A manner that builds our closeness in ways I’ve also never experienced before. Or how magnificent it feels to know that my daughter extends an invitation to a tea party, and although things are not right between us, you still come and give her what she desires even knowing it might include a confrontation with me.”

“You didn’t stop talking,” I pointed out shakily.

“No, I didn’t. But I shall. Now, it’s your turn to talk. How did you hear of Estranvegue?”

“I, well…” I paused. He kept scowling. So I went on. “Overheard two maids talking.”