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“I didn’t hear you get up,” she said.
“I thought you might be trying to leave again.”
“I was getting a drink,” she said haughtily. “I told you I wouldn’t try to leave.”
“Yeah, well, I tend to be a bit skeptical about your promises these days.”
The words stung. She crossed her arms defensively over her chest, and swallowed the automatic protest that sprang to her lips.
Gabe grimaced and shoved a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m sorry,” he muttered. “That wasn’t necessary.”
“No. It wasn’t.”
“I’m just tired, I guess.”
She nodded stiffly. “I’ll let you get back to sleep, then. I’m sorry I disturbed you.”
She moved toward the doorway, intending to breeze past him, but he remained where he was, blocking her path.
Looking at him uncertainly, she paused. “Was there something else?”
He started to speak, then closed his mouth and shook his head. “No. I guess not.”
He moved aside.
She tingled all over as she passed within touching distance of all that bare male skin. She kept her hands carefully at her sides.
He followed her to the bedroom. “Page?”
She laced her fingers in front of her and turned toward him. He stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the faint light from the kitchen. She couldn’t see his face, and she doubted that he could make out her expression, either. “Yes?”
“How long were you going to keep running? How did you think this would end?”
“I don’t know.” She spoke softly, but her voice seemed to echo in the silent shadows. “I told myself I would run as long as I had to. Maybe I was foolishly hoping he would come to his senses one day and leave me alone. I haven’t had much time to think or to plan during the past thirty months, only to react.”
“You never considered calling me? Asking for my help?”
The hurt was still there, in his voice. The sense of betrayal. Of wounded male pride.
“We’ve been over this, Gabe. I was afraid to involve you.”
“You thought I was so incapable of taking care of myself? Of you?”
“I didn’t want to take the chance. I couldn’t risk your life,” she repeated stubbornly.
“Damn it, Page.” His voice was raw. “You keep saying you left me to save my life. Didn’t you ever stop to think that without you I had no life?”
She caught her breath. “I’d been on my own for a long time,” she tried to explain, wishing there was something she could say to soothe his pain. “I was used to being alone, to dealing with my own problems. But you—you had your family. Your friends. Your business. I was in your life such a short time. I—”
His curse was vicious. Earthy. Unexpected.
“You are my wife,” he said, his voice strained. “Three weeks, three years—or thirty—it wouldn’t have mattered. Everything changed for me when I married you. We were supposed to be a team,” he finished bitterly.
She closed her eyes, swaying slightly on her feet. “I know. I wanted that, too. But he came so close to killing you with that falling beam. I was so afraid...”
She opened her eyes, willing him to understand. “There were so many times I wanted to call you. So many times I wanted to tell you everything. To beg you to forgive me. But when he killed Buddy—my kitten—I realized how cruel he could be. And when he killed poor Detective Pratt, a trained police officer, I knew he wouldn’t hesitate to go after you.”
Her breath caught. “I didn’t want to leave you, Gabe. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life. The past two years have been sheer hell for me, but I’ve gotten through them because I believed I was doing the best thing for you. I told myself if I had to spend the rest of my life on the run, it would be worth it, because no one could ever take away my memories of the twelve perfect weeks I’d had with you.”
