With a sexy grin, he removed his sunglasses and said, 'I'm glad you approve.'
From the instant the curtain rose, her heart pounded nonstop. During the performance, she was in heaven, struck by how much ballet had both evolved and remained the same. The medium of dance perfectly suited the tale, the music its sublime partner.
Yet Conrad sat with his arms crossed over his chest, a critical look on his face. 'You shame them,' he grated, which just made her love him more.
'Well, thank you for that, but I believe I'd be a bit short and busty compared to these modern dancers.'
'I happen to have a thing for short and busty ballerinas.'
She gave him a slow smile. 'I'm glad you approve.'
'Exceedingly so.' A hank of thick black hair fell over one of his eyes. 'Do you miss it?'
'I do. It was thrilling to perform for an audience. And I miss the camaraderie in the troupe.' She even missed her muscles aching from the exertion of a taxing rehearsal. 'But I'm happy that I get to share this with you.' His hand found hers.
Once the curtain closed, she teared up at the tragic ending—though it was expected and accepted—because it had a new meaning for her now. Néomi, too, would be separated from the man she loved. She didn't want to be, lamenting that she was in this position.
But it was expected. She'd accepted it. And she didn't regret a moment—
He slipped a felt-covered box into her hand. 'What is this?' she asked, though she knew.
With a swallow, she opened the case. Inside lay an exquisite platinum ring, with a vibrant blue sapphire center stone flanked by diamonds.
'Be my wife, Néomi.'
When she could take her eyes from the ring, she gazed up at him. He'd asked her here. Awash in the beauty of this place, her heart was full with emotion from the dance—and from loving the man who'd given this night to her. Under any other circumstances, she would have been crying with joy.
'Conrad... ' The need to confess everything burned within her. But she feared robbing herself of this time with him. It's running out. Their gazes held. And I can't tell you.
Giving the ring back would be one of the hardest things she'd ever done. Though it was tearing her apart, she handed him the box. 'I'm so sorry,' she whispered. 'I can't.'
He accepted it from her without a word. But a muscle ticked in his jaw.
When Néomi refused his ring, the world tilted askew.
Like a punch in the gut, Conrad realized that even after everything—the time they'd shared, their enjoyment of each other—she still would make no commitment to him.
And she hadn't even needed a second to consider what he was offering.
The fatigue he'd ignored returned redoubled. The frustration from his stymied search mounted. He was failing at every turn.
Conrad couldn't find what he needed and couldn't secure what he had.
The more Néomi pulled away, the more crazed he felt. He wanted her to the point of madness. Conrad was a man who knew exactly where that point lay.
He decided at that moment that he simply wouldn't let her go.
Conrad had feared that if he took this stand, he would remind her of Robicheaux. That bastard had demanded she stay with him as well.
Yet there was a difference between never letting her go when she actually wanted to stay and keeping her only because he couldn't live without her.
Conrad believed Néomi wanted to be kept by him. He'd oblige her.
36
He was seething.
Néomi felt as if she were sidling around an untamed animal—one wrong move could provoke it to attack.
Endeavoring not to reveal her dismay, she behaved as if nothing were amiss, readying for bed as usual. In the past, her feminine rituals had seemed to fascinate him, almost relaxing him. Maybe they would tonight.
She removed her jewelry, donned a nightgown and robe of crimson silk, and applied lotion to her hands and legs.
Taking a seat at her dresser, she raised her brush, glancing at him in the mirror. Usually he sat on the bed, rapt as she combed out her hair, as if awaiting his turn to run his fingers through it.
Now he was in his customary spot, but his expression was drawn. The weather outside seemed to mirror the turmoil she sensed inside him. The wind gusted all around the old manor, and the lightning was already dancing. Though the rain hadn't yet started, it would. Néomi knew fall was turning to winter in the bayou's unique way—with overnight deluges, as if to beat the lingering heat into submission and batter the clinging leaves from the trees.
'What do I have to do, Néomi?' He ran his hand over his wearied face. 'Who do I have to kill to keep you? Tell me what to do, and it's done.'
She turned to him. 'Conrad, not again. I thought we settled this on the morning after the gathering.'
'How could I forget about your conditions?' he asked, sneering the word. 'Tell me your secret, damn you! Did you make some kind of deal with the devil? Why won't you marry me?'
He rose and crossed to her. With his broad shoulders back, every inch the officer, he said, 'You might even now be carrying my babe. What if I refuse ever to let you go?'
'Let me go?' she asked softly. 'I've been through that before.'
'Don't you compare him to me!' Conrad pulled her up from her chair, then cupped the back of her neck. 'There's a difference between keeping a woman who wants to be kept and one who doesn't.'
'And you think I want to be kept?'
'You do. By me. You want me to make it so that we never part again.'
She turned away, unable to deny it.
'So now I'm going to tell you how this will be with us.' With a straightened arm, he swept the items from the dresser, setting her atop it. 'You—are—mine. Nothing will change that.'
He seemed on the very edge of control, and she felt her body already responding to his ferocity. 'Body and soul—you're all mine.' He was breathing heavily. And as soon as I kill the one I'm hunting, then you will wed me.'
'What does Tarut have to do with us?'
'You know I bear the demon's mark.' Conrad wedged his hips between her legs, forcing her gown to ride up. 'You know that it won't heal until he's dead. But there's more to it. If I can't defeat him, then my most coveted dream and worst nightmare will come true. When you appeared that night at the gathering in flesh and blood—that was my dream.'
'I-I was?'
He gave her a short nod. 'My nightmare is that you die again.'
'That's why you've hunted so relentlessly?' For her?
'And I'll continue to. But after that, Néomi, I vow to you, the second I rid my body of this mark... from that moment on you'll be more than my Bride—you'll be my wife.'
Again a male was demanding that she marry him with a wild look in his eyes. But there were such differences this time.
Conrad would never hurt her. He would rather die.
And Néomi was just as crazed for him.
She knew her eyes were wild with wanting him, too. 'Conrad... ' She yearned so much to tell him everything. To tell him that she loved him, and that she was so selfish and greedy for him that she couldn't leave—even though she'd only end up hurting him. 'It can't happen—'
Cutting off her words with his kiss, he groaned against her mouth and fisted his hands in her robe. Once he'd
