Page 42 of Daring to Love

I know which article he refers to, though. Of course I do. I spend too much of my free time making sure I haven’t been caught by the paps, I’ve come across that ancient article too many times I count, but I know it’s harmless and doesn’t reveal anything.

“You had an accident when you were a teenager?”

I nod and stop burying my head. I want to see his face when I tell him the story, and I turn to my back. He lifts his head, freeing his arm underneath me, and rest it in the palm of his hand.

“It was while I was dancing.” I place my hands on top of the blanket and frown at the memory. “I was in the middle of doing a pirouette – something as simple as that – when something snapped in my ankle, and I fell to a heap on the floor.” I give him a crooked smile. “It was a clean break, but the doctors couldn’t say why it happened. Only that I’d have to be prepared for it to happen again.”

A line is etched between his eyebrows as he listens intensely to me.

“That’s why you’re taking classes at university next to dancing, isn’t it?”

I’m impressed he came to that conclusion so quickly, but I’m not surprised – he’s a journalist, after all. Probably a very good one.

“I know that there’s a real risk that my next performance will be my last, yes.” I let out a humourless laugh. “I suppose I’m preparing myself for failure.”

He shakes his head.

“Not failure,” he murmurs softly. “I’d hate for it to happen to you, sweetheart, honestly. I do.” His sincerity makes my breaths fall faster. “But having a plan b is never a bad thing. I think it’s a smart move, to be honest.”

Unwanted tears clog up my throat, but I do my hardest to suppress them. I don’t want our day together to end with me acting like this: a blubbering fool crying over a lost future even though I don’t even know if it’ll happen.

“Really?”

He smiles before he leans down and kisses me softly, his lips lingering sweetly on mine, before he releases a long breath.

“I have faith in you, sweetheart. Even if your dream shatters, you have another plan, and I admire you for it.”

That does it: tears flow silently down my tears at his praise. I didn’t know how much I needed to hear he believes in me until now. That I wanted the reassurance of someone else besides my family that what I’m doing with my life isn’t foolish. But the truth is, I did. I do.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” I blurt out, not caring in the least if it makes me sound needy.

His eyes gentle, the laugh lines around them deepening as they roam my face.

“So am I,” he whispers.

Not wanting to talk anymore, I raise my head and take his lips, pushing gently on his shoulders until he moves to lie down on his back. I’m done with talking for tonight.

Luckily, he catches on quickly, banding his arms around my middle as I deepen our kiss. Everything else can wait for another twenty-four hours.

But in the back of my mind, I remember what else the old article reveals, and a niggle of doubt about Finlay’s motives for being with me wants to make itself known. I’m too far gone to care, losing myself in his lovemaking, but I know I can’t evade his questions for much longer.

Still, I let myself have tonight.

Tomorrow, I’ll face whatever questions he might have.