Now you see. We are all fugitives. We have always been fugitives from the void. Whatever comfort, whatever power we gain from outside of ourselves diminishes us -- because comfort and power, unless they are won from the void inside of us, are illusions that make us forget the emptyness that carries us. When we forget that, we believe we deserve comfort and power and so are capable of any evil. We deserve nothing but what we make of ourselves. We deserve nothing else. And when we understand that, then nothing is enough.
You must have traveled all night,_ she heard herself say. __ had to come back early._ She felt his lips brush her tumbled hair. __ left some things unfinished. But I had a feeling you might need me. Tell me what__ happened, sweetheart._ Amelia opened her mouth to answer, but to her mortification, the only sound she could make was a sort of miserable croak. Her self-control shattered. She shook her head and choked on more sobs, and the more she tried to stop them, the worse they became. Cam gripped her firmly, deeply, into his embrace. The appalling storm of tears didn__ seem to bother him at all. He took one of Amelia__ hands and flattened it against his heart, until she could feel the strong, steady beat. In a world that was disintegrating around her, he was solid and real. __t__ all right,_ she heard him murmur. ____ here._ Alarmed by her own lack of self-discipline, Amelia made a wobbly attempt to stand on her own, but he only hugged her more closely. __o, don__ pull away. I__e got you._ He cuddled her shaking form against his chest. Noticing Poppy__ awkward retreat, Cam sent her a reassuring smile. __on__ worry, little sister._ __melia hardly ever cries,_ Poppy said. __he__ fine._ Cam ran his hand along Amelia__ spine in soothing strokes. __he just needs_ As he paused, Poppy said, __ shoulder to lean on._ __es._ He drew Amelia to the stairs, and gestured for Poppy to sit beside them. Cradling Amelia on his lap, Cam found a handkerchief in his pocket and wiped her eyes and nose. When it became apparent that no sense could be made from her jumbled words, he hushed her gently and held her against his large, warm body while she sobbed and hid her face. Overwhelmed with relief, she let him rock her as if she were a child. As Amelia hiccupped and quieted in his arms, Cam asked a few questions of Poppy, who told him about Merripen__ condition and Leo__ disappearance, and even about the missing silverware. Finally getting control of herself, Amelia cleared her aching throat. She lifted her head from Cam__ shoulder and blinked. __etter?_ he asked, holding the handkerchief up to her nose. Amelia nodded and blew obediently. ____ sorry,_ she said in a muffled voice. __ shouldn__ have turned into a watering pot. I__ finished now._ Cam seemed to look right inside her. His voice was very soft. __ou don__ have to be sorry. You don__ have to be finished, either._ She realized that no matter what she did or said, no matter how long she wanted to cry, he would accept it. And he would comfort her.
Mine Till Midnight
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You must have traveled all night,_ she heard herself say. __ had to come back early._ She felt his lips brush her tumbled hair. __ left some things unfinished. But I had a feeling you might need me. Tell me what__ happened, sweetheart._ Amelia opened her mouth to answer, but to her mortification, the only sound she could make was a sort of miserable croak. Her self-control shattered. She shook her head and choked on more sobs, and the more she tried to stop them, the worse they became. Cam gripped her firmly, deeply, into his embrace. The appalling storm of tears didn__ seem to bother him at all. He took one of Amelia__ hands and flattened it against his heart, until she could feel the strong, steady beat. In a world that was disintegrating around her, he was solid and real. __t__ all right,_ she heard him murmur. ____ here._ Alarmed by her own lack of self-discipline, Amelia made a wobbly attempt to stand on her own, but he only hugged her more closely. __o, don__ pull away. I__e got you._ He cuddled her shaking form against his chest. Noticing Poppy__ awkward retreat, Cam sent her a reassuring smile. __on__ worry, little sister._ __melia hardly ever cries,_ Poppy said. __he__ fine._ Cam ran his hand along Amelia__ spine in soothing strokes. __he just needs_ As he paused, Poppy said, __ shoulder to lean on._ __es._ He drew Amelia to the stairs, and gestured for Poppy to sit beside them. Cradling Amelia on his lap, Cam found a handkerchief in his pocket and wiped her eyes and nose. When it became apparent that no sense could be made from her jumbled words, he hushed her gently and held her against his large, warm body while she sobbed and hid her face. Overwhelmed with relief, she let him rock her as if she were a child. As Amelia hiccupped and quieted in his arms, Cam asked a few questions of Poppy, who told him about Merripen__ condition and Leo__ disappearance, and even about the missing silverware. Finally getting control of herself, Amelia cleared her aching throat. She lifted her head from Cam__ shoulder and blinked. __etter?_ he asked, holding the handkerchief up to her nose. Amelia nodded and blew obediently. ____ sorry,_ she said in a muffled voice. __ shouldn__ have turned into a watering pot. I__ finished now._ Cam seemed to look right inside her. His voice was very soft. __ou don__ have to be sorry. You don__ have to be finished, either._ She realized that no matter what she did or said, no matter how long she wanted to cry, he would accept it. And he would comfort her.
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I have a proposition for you,_ she said, trying for a businesslike tone. __ very sensible one. You see__ She paused to clear her throat. ____e been thinking about your problem._ __hat problem?_ Cam played lightly with the folds of her skirts, watching her face ale
One never knows what fate has in store._ Turning toward Rohan, Amelia discovered he was glancing over her in a slow inventory that spurred her heart into a faster beat. __ don__ believe in fate,_ she said. __eople are in control of their own destinies._ Rohan smiled. __veryone, even the gods, are helpless in the hands of fate._ Amelia regarded him skeptically. __urely you, being employed at a gaming club, know all about probability and odds. Which means you can__ rationally give credence to luck or fate or anything of the sort._ __ know all about probability and odds,_ Rohan agreed. __evertheless, I believe in luck._ He smiled with a quiet smolder in his eyes that caused her breath to catch. __ believe in magic and mystery, and dreams that reveal the future. And I believe some things are written in the stars _ or even in the palm of your hand._ Mesmerized, Amelia was unable to look away from him. He was an extraordinarily beautiful man, his skin as dark as clover honey, his black hair falling over his forehead in a way that made her fingers twitch with the urge to push it back. __o you believe in fate too?_ she asked Merripen. A long hesitation. ____ a Roma,_ he said. Which meant yes. __ood Lord, Merripen. I__e always thought of you as a sensible man._ Rohan laughed. __t__ only sensible to allow for the possibility, Miss Hathaway. Just because you can__ see or feel something doesn__ mean it can__ exist.
His eyes were above hers, and she saw that the golden-hazel irises were rimmed with black. __iss Hathaway _ you__e quite certain fate had no hand in our meeting tonight?_ She couldn__ seem to breathe properly. __u-quite certain._ His head bent low. __nd in all likelihood we__l never meet again?_ __ever._ He was too large, too close. Nervously Amelia tried to marshal her thoughts, but they scattered like spilled matchsticks _ and then he set fire to them as his breath touched her cheek. __ hope you__e right. God help me if I should ever have to face the consequences._ __f what?_ Her voice was faint. __his._ His hand slid to the back of her neck and his mouth covered hers.
You__l have me,_ Cam whispered. __ou__l have me, hummingbird. I__ your fate_ even if you won__ admit it yet.
But I must warn you, Miss Hathaway ... life has a way of fouling up our plans. I speak from experience.