Dreaming of You (The Gamblers #2)(104)

Sara’s breath was knocked from her at the first sight of the club. Or rather, the place where the club had been. Thieves and beggars were poking through the rubble in search of fire-damaged goods. Slowly Sara descended from the Ashby carriage. She stood at the side of the street, staring. “Dear God,” she whispered, her eyes stinging with tears.

All Derek’s dreams, the monument to his ambition…razed to the ground. Nothing remained but the marble columns and staircases, sticking up like the exposed skeleton of a once-proud beast. Pieces of the stone facade were scattered on the ground like giant scales. The extent of the destruction was difficult to comprehend. For years the club had been the center of Derek’s life. She couldn’t imagine how he must be reacting to the loss.

The lavender light of daybreak fell gently over the scene. Sara made her way to the charred ruins at a snail’s pace, her thoughts disconnected. Her manuscript had burned, she realized sadly. It had almost been finished. The art collection was gone too. Was Worthy all right? Had anyone perished in the fire? There were hot embers on the ground, and small patches of flame. Tufts of smoke rose from blackened timbers that had fallen at odd angles. What had once been the huge chandelier in the domed hall was a mass of melted crystal lumps.

Reaching what had once been the grand central staircase, now exposed to the open sky, Sara stopped and dragged her sleeve over her face. She gave an aching sigh. “Oh, Derek,” she murmured. “What am I going to say to you?”

A breeze rustled past her, stirring ashes around her skirts, making her cough.

Suddenly an odd feeling came over her, a slight shock as if she’d been touched by invisible hands. She rubbed her arms and turned around, somehow knowing Derek would be there.

And he was. He stared at her from a face that was stark-white, paler than the scorched marble columns rising from the ground. His lips formed her name, but he didn’t make a sound. The breeze swept over them both, clearing away the wisps of smoke from the ground. Sara was startled by his gauntness, the torment that pulled at his features until he looked like a stranger. His eyes were searing, as if he were flooded with uncontainable rage…but suddenly the depths of green overflowed, and she realized with astonishment that it was not rage…It was soul-deep terror. He didn’t move, or even blink, afraid she would disappear.

“Derek?” she said uncertainly.

His throat worked violently. “Don’t leave me,” he whispered.

Sara went to him, picking up her skirts, stumbling in her haste. “I’m all right. Oh, please don’t look like that!” Reaching him, she threw her arms around him and held on with all her strength. “Everything’s all right.”

A fierce tremor went through him. Suddenly he clutched her in an embrace that hurt, until her ribs ached from the pressure. His hands slid over her body in a frantic search, while his breath shuddered in her ear. “You said you’d never leave me.” He held her as if he feared she would be ripped away from him.

“I’m here now,” she soothed. “I’m right here.”

“Oh, God…Sara…I couldn’t find you…”

She brushed her palms over his cold, wet cheeks. He was off-balance, his considerable weight swaying against her. “Have you been drinking?” she murmured, pulling back to look at him. He shook his head, staring at her if she were a ghost. She wondered how to take away the shattered look in his eyes. “Let’s find a place to sit down.” As she stepped away toward the marble stairs, his arms tightened. “Derek,” she urged. He went with her like a sleepwalker. They settled on a step and he hunched over her tightly, his arms fast around her.

“I love you,” he told her, wiping impatiently at the tears that kept trickling down his face. “I couldn’t say it before. I couldn’t—” He clenched his trembling jaw, trying to control the hot flow of tears. It only made them worse. Giving up, he buried his face in her hair. “Bloody hell,” he muttered.

Sara had never seen him so undone, had never imagined it possible. Stroking his dark head, she whispered meaningless words, trying to give him comfort.

“I love you,” he repeated hoarsely, burrowing against her. “I would have given my life to have one more day with you, and tell you that.”

Watching the reunion from across the street, Alex sighed with tremendous relief. “Thank God,” he muttered, and went to his carriage. He couldn’t wait to tell Lily the good news. In fact, he might decide never to let Lily out of his sight again. He rubbed his tired eyes and spoke to the coachman. “Well, Craven’s got his second chance. As for me…I’m going home to my wife now. Step lively about it.”

“It’s like that, is it, m’lord?” the coachman asked cheekily, and Alex gave him a wry grin.

“Let’s go.”

Murmuring quietly, Sara kissed her husband’s rumpled hair and his neck. He held her for a long time while the shaking in his limbs gradually subsided.

“Is Worthy all right?” Sara asked. “Was anyone hurt?”

“They’re all fine.”

“Derek, we’ll build another club. We’ll do it all again, I promise—”

“No.” He said it with such vehemence that she was quiet for a few minutes, continuing to stroke his hair. He lifted his head and looked at her with bloodshot eyes. “It’ll never be what it was. I’d rather remember the place as it was than build an imitation. I…I want something different now.”