make it true.” She pulled their joined hands to her chest. “The one constant in both our lives is love. It’s the force behind what we do. It’s not who we were that matters, Ben, it’s who we can be and who we choose to be.”
He wanted to believe her. Sweet Jesus, he wanted so badly to believe her. Words didn’t heal the deep wounds that festered within him. Actions only made them worse, given how violent he’d become when he unleashed his anger. Now she offered him the chance to believe.
Ben didn’t think he could.
“How about we call a truce?” She still held his hand tight in her grip. “We stay honest with each other and ride together toward the compound. We keep each other safe.”
It was a novel concept. Trusting a woman to keep him safe wasn’t, considering his four fierce sisters, but Grace was still a stranger. Ben had only trusted his family, but he would have to trust this strange woman who had yanked him back into the land of the living.
Ben wasn’t sure who he was anymore, but his heart told him to take her offer. Perhaps she was right about everything, or perhaps they’d both be dead in the end.
He wiped at his face, eliminating the evidence of his emotional outburst. “Truce.”
She squeezed his hand one last time before she released it. This time when they rode forward, his anxiety and tension had dissipated. No matter what happened, he had Grace beside him on the journey. For whatever reason, it comforted him. He would lay his demons to rest in the end, and for that, he would do anything.
*
Grace shifted in the saddle for the thousandth time since she’d donned the cursed women’s clothing. She wasn’t uncomfortable because they fit, but because they fit so well, she didn’t feel right. Perhaps it was also because she hadn’t been near a dress or skirt for a year.
Or perhaps it was because she hadn’t felt like a woman for that entire time. Ben had spoken of dredging things to the surface. He’d succeeded in reminding her that she was, indeed, a female with needs and wants. She wasn’t immune to him. On the contrary, she was attracted to him. Stupidly attracted.
The feminine clothes, knowing he’d been the one to buy them and pick them out, made her fidget. That was the crux of the problem. She knew he’d touched all of them before they’d been on her body.
The ghost of his hands was now touching her.
Her thoughts kept straying back to the clothes, which in turn, led to thoughts of Ben. Grace had no illusions when she started this quest. She would never welcome a man into her bed or her heart. Now it appeared her body was pushing to break the first rule.
It couldn’t happen. It wouldn’t happen.
She’d made a vow a year ago to avenge her husband’s death and get her son back no matter what. She’d been willing to give up her life in exchange for Henry’s. Nothing about that vow had changed. However, she hadn’t vowed to never be intimate with a man again, but she never expected to. Her time with Alfred had included marital relations on occasion, enough to give her Henry, but it wasn’t anything she craved. Passion with a man hadn’t happened and if she were honest with herself, she didn’t think she was capable.
She’d been wrong.
Colliding with Ben and traveling beside him had set her world askew. She could not only feel passion, she nearly burned with it. Enough to make her so off-balance, she was distracted from her purpose. It was up to her to right it, no matter how she did it.
The day passed with excruciating quiet even if their pace was fast. Every moment she moved with the horse, she was too aware of her femininity. And his masculinity.
Damn it.
The sun was nearly set before Ben finally broke the silence. The sound of his deep voice startled her out of her miserable thoughts.
“We should stop for the night before it’s full dark.” He turned Paladin toward a copse of trees.
Unaccountably annoyed at his continued highhandedness, she
He wanted to believe her. Sweet Jesus, he wanted so badly to believe her. Words didn’t heal the deep wounds that festered within him. Actions only made them worse, given how violent he’d become when he unleashed his anger. Now she offered him the chance to believe.
Ben didn’t think he could.
“How about we call a truce?” She still held his hand tight in her grip. “We stay honest with each other and ride together toward the compound. We keep each other safe.”
It was a novel concept. Trusting a woman to keep him safe wasn’t, considering his four fierce sisters, but Grace was still a stranger. Ben had only trusted his family, but he would have to trust this strange woman who had yanked him back into the land of the living.
Ben wasn’t sure who he was anymore, but his heart told him to take her offer. Perhaps she was right about everything, or perhaps they’d both be dead in the end.
He wiped at his face, eliminating the evidence of his emotional outburst. “Truce.”
She squeezed his hand one last time before she released it. This time when they rode forward, his anxiety and tension had dissipated. No matter what happened, he had Grace beside him on the journey. For whatever reason, it comforted him. He would lay his demons to rest in the end, and for that, he would do anything.
*
Grace shifted in the saddle for the thousandth time since she’d donned the cursed women’s clothing. She wasn’t uncomfortable because they fit, but because they fit so well, she didn’t feel right. Perhaps it was also because she hadn’t been near a dress or skirt for a year.
Or perhaps it was because she hadn’t felt like a woman for that entire time. Ben had spoken of dredging things to the surface. He’d succeeded in reminding her that she was, indeed, a female with needs and wants. She wasn’t immune to him. On the contrary, she was attracted to him. Stupidly attracted.
The feminine clothes, knowing he’d been the one to buy them and pick them out, made her fidget. That was the crux of the problem. She knew he’d touched all of them before they’d been on her body.
The ghost of his hands was now touching her.
Her thoughts kept straying back to the clothes, which in turn, led to thoughts of Ben. Grace had no illusions when she started this quest. She would never welcome a man into her bed or her heart. Now it appeared her body was pushing to break the first rule.
It couldn’t happen. It wouldn’t happen.
She’d made a vow a year ago to avenge her husband’s death and get her son back no matter what. She’d been willing to give up her life in exchange for Henry’s. Nothing about that vow had changed. However, she hadn’t vowed to never be intimate with a man again, but she never expected to. Her time with Alfred had included marital relations on occasion, enough to give her Henry, but it wasn’t anything she craved. Passion with a man hadn’t happened and if she were honest with herself, she didn’t think she was capable.
She’d been wrong.
Colliding with Ben and traveling beside him had set her world askew. She could not only feel passion, she nearly burned with it. Enough to make her so off-balance, she was distracted from her purpose. It was up to her to right it, no matter how she did it.
The day passed with excruciating quiet even if their pace was fast. Every moment she moved with the horse, she was too aware of her femininity. And his masculinity.
Damn it.
The sun was nearly set before Ben finally broke the silence. The sound of his deep voice startled her out of her miserable thoughts.
“We should stop for the night before it’s full dark.” He turned Paladin toward a copse of trees.
Unaccountably annoyed at his continued highhandedness, she
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