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he couldn’t puthis finger on the reason why. Younger than Hero, fitter, but thatwasn’t it. Either way, the sight of her set his blood boiling justas it always had, and already his fingers were itching to touchher. She did not appear nearly as eager to do the same.

“Yes, my love,” Waters said with laughter inhis voice, but Mikah must have been familiar with his humor becauseshe only rolled her eyes. That ease between them tore at Jace’sheart. This is what he had been afraid of. How could he competeagainst that? Kris Waters’s unwavering good humor and acceptance ofJace under the circumstances spoke clearly of his confidence in thestability of their relationship, and sent Jace’s optimism into adecline.

“Why don’t you go?” Mikah said. To Jace’ssurprise, she was still speaking to Waters. In that moment, heexpected Mikah to ask the same question of him and to explain tohim that she was happy as she was.

Waters didn’t seem as surprised, but wentimmediately to her side. “Mikes …”

“Go back to the party,” she insisted.“There’s plenty of time still and I’m sure everyone’s waiting foryou.”

“I don’t want to leave you here likethis.”

“I’ll be fine.” She looked up then, herbrilliant eyes meeting Jace’s across the room. “Won’t I befine?”

“I would never harm her,” Jace assured Watersgravely.

Though there was still doubt in his eyes,Waters relented to Mikah’s additional prodding. After a warninglook to Jace, he said his goodbyes, bending to whisper in Mikah’sear before kissing her cheek.

“I love you, too.”

Her whispered words were barely audible, butJace felt them tear at his heart. This had all been a mistake. Thevery last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. To cause her pain. Ifshe were truly happy …

Jace looked around the loft again, recallingWaters’s own insinuations. What if Mikah wasn’t truly happy? Whatif, like him, this Waters was prepared to sacrifice the affectionhe clearly held for Mikah for what he thought might benefit her?Jace had to know. It was what had brought him here against hisbetter judgment, the need to assure himself of her happiness andwell-being.

Watching him warily, Mikah bent, unzippingher tall black boots and pulling them off.

Jace looked down at her small feet, watchingas she curled her toes inside her stockings as she lingered nearthe bedroom door, her hands clasped nervously in front of her. Hiseyes traveled familiarly up her length until he reached her faceonce more. Again he wondered at the difference in her that wasn’tmerely the result of modern clothing. Her cheeks were still pinkfrom the cold but her wide eyes dominated her face, and Jacerealized that that she was wearing makeup. Hero had been a naturalbeauty, fresh of face, but with the cosmetics, she was stunning.Hers eyes, lips, and cheeks were emphasized and enhanced, givingher a more glamorous appearance.

But with that allure came a distance, aseparation that made it difficult for Jace to see his Hero beneath,yet Jace knew that he would not be able to leave until he knew forcertain.

“You know me.”

“Yes.” The word escaped her lips easily, butshe shook her head in denial of the word. “No. No, I don’t. Who areyou?”

“My name is Jason MacAuliffe. Jace, and aye,you do know me.”

“No,” she insisted, wringing her handstogether. Her eyes slid over him, taking in every detail. “You area stranger to me.”

“We both know that you and I have never beenstrangers,” he said softly.

Chapter Forty-Five

That thick Scottish brogue Mikah rememberedso well slid seductively down her spine, sending goosebumpsprickling across her flesh. God, it was him. As much as she wantedto deny it, there was no coincidence imaginable that could set ascene such as this one.

She studied him now, so much closer than he’dbeen when she had first seen him on the ramparts. When she hadheard—no, felt—her name, Hero’s name, being whispered. Nothingcould have prepared her to see him there. A ghost, an echo. Closernow than he had been in the hall, when she had become so alarminglyaware of him in the space of a single breath.

Mikah had thought him to be identical to IanConagham, but he wasn’t exactly. Ian had been only thirty, whilethis man was older by more than a couple years. There was a tensionin his jaw, a seriousness in his eyes that was not Ian’s. The samebut different.

“On the ramparts. Why did you run?”

“I thought …” Mikah swallowed deeply andfinally took a hesitant step toward him even as he walked towardher. She watched him come, noticing the slight limp that was atodds with that proud military bearing she remembered and wonderingat it. Nervously she twisted her ring around her finger. Hero’swedding ring. A symbol of the sudden love that had found andensnared them. But it wasn’t her love, she mentally repeated thewords that had become her mantra. It had been theirs.

What she’d had was a glimpse, a taste forherself. She needed to remember that, but it was so very difficultwhen her Ian was standing in front of her. “When I saw you, Ithought I had finally truly lost it. I saw you and I saw all thewishful thinking, all the insanity of the past couple months there.When I left Cuilean after the auction, I was determined to let itgo. To let Ian go.”

“To let me go.”

“No, Ian,” she said firmly, her mantrasinging in her ears. “You are not him. Ian is long dead.” Mikah’sthroat tightened around the word. Through all of this, she hadnever said that so blatantly before. Ian had been gone, taken,lost, but never dead.

Mikah tore away from his gaze, crossing tothe windows that overlooked Lake Michigan. Pushing open a window,she welcomed the rush of winter air. It lifted her hair, cooled herflaming cheeks, and dried the tears that sprang to her eyes.Ian. As she hadn’t since her return from Scotland, Mikah letherself fully remember him once more.

In her mind she heard the lilting strains ofa waltz. Their waltz.

It tore at her heart.

Mikah felt him behind her, felt the familiarheat of his body against hers. Felt his hands slide around herwaist and turn her until

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