But everything had changed.
I’d shared a bed with Edward the night before. I’d made love to a murderer, while I’d blindly thought I was safe in his company. I’d been worse than a fool.
“Why didn’t you come for me sooner?” My whispered words blended with the crackling of the fire.
He settled on the bed next to me, amid the silk sheets and sea of pillows that were a million miles away from the sparse simplicity of the island where we’d fallen in love. Then he took my small hand in his much bigger one, and ever so slowly brought it to his lips.
My heart roared to life just like the fire. The memories of him pushing me away in that dinghy were still so tender, and I wasn’t certain I was ready for this again. I’d spent months healing from the sting—such deep wounds didn’t patch over in a day.
“It was complicated,” he said, keeping his voice low. “When I followed Edward here, of course I thought of you. I wanted to come find you every day, and apologize for parting the way we did, and say that I’ve thought of you constantly.” His hand tightened in mine, not letting me drift away like that dinghy’s rope had so many months ago. “And yet every time I thought of a life together, there was too much in the way. At first it was the fate of the beast-men; if I had left them there alone, I would have never forgiven myself.”
“The beast-men are gone, now,” I whispered.
“Yes, but now Edward stands between us. I want a simple life, Juliet. No monsters in our closets, no jumping at shadows. Before I could have that life with you, I wanted to resolve the question of Edward. Then I planned on finding you, and having that life.” He’d moved quite close on the bed now, as my pounding heart was all too aware. He reached up and cupped my chin in his hand. “I never stopped loving you. I never will.”
There on the satin duvet, in the quiet intimacy of my bedroom, logic seemed to have left me. He’d wounded me so deeply, and yet he was still the young man I’d fallen in love with. Could I throw away a lifelong friendship over an old wound?
“I missed you,” he muttered.
His lips brushed against my cheek. I asked myself if I could forgive him so easily. But the answer was simple, as we sat in the intimacy of my bedroom. Yes, yes, yes. I’d forgive him anything.
I leaned in to him, and he kissed me. I had dreamed of seeing him again for so long that it hardly felt real. I pressed my lips to his again and again, dizzy in the moonlight streaming in from the high windows.
“Juliet.” He whispered my name against my cheek like a caress. The feel of his warm skin woke me as if from a dream, as if I’d merely been sleepwalking through life since leaving the island.
I pulled his head down, kissing him again. Not softly this time. My breath started coming fast, my pulse pounding. He returned it just as passionately. I wanted to kiss him forever, never let him leave me again.
His thumb found my dress’s neckline, running along the place where the fabric ended and skin began. As he trailed kisses down the length of my neck, he pulled the fabric over my shoulder, replacing it with his lips.
I leaned back, hands coiled in his hair, thinking of how making love to Edward had been a mistake. I should have saved myself for Montgomery, the man I truly loved.
What would he do if he found out?
Montgomery stopped and sat abruptly. His gaze fell to the bare skin of my shoulder. I parted my lips, confused, and touched the tender place where he’d just kissed me.
My fingers found the rough scratches from where the Beast had clawed me.
“Where did you get those scratches?” he said. There was an odd inflection in his voice, and I remembered that he’d seen the Beast’s scratches on countless bodies. He knew exactly how the claws cut through skin, how far apart the spacing was. Of course he would recognize them.
“Montgomery . . . ,” I said in a rush. I could feel the intimacy of the moment slipping out of my hands, and I grabbed his arm to keep it there.
He pulled out of my grasp and stood, pacing by the fire. “You said you hadn’t seen Edward before tonight.”
“Stop pacing, and I shall explain.”
“You said you hadn’t seen him. You lied to me.”
“I never actually said as much—you just assumed. I didn’t know how to tell you.”