Pushing her hair back from her face, she donned her most sincere expression. "I love you."
"You can have the confounded shield if you love it that much, lass," Dageus said, sounding utterly bewildered. Chloe felt all the blood drain from her face.
She swallowed hard. Several times. Oh, God, she thought dismally, was it humanly possible to feel any more stupid?
She shifted awkwardly on the chair, cleared her throat and stared down at the floor, thinking frantically, trying to come up with some excuse for what she'd just been doing. Back rigidly to him, she began to babble. "It's… er, not the shield, urn, you know. I wasn't really talking to the shield, I just couldn't find a mirror and this is just a little positive reinforcement thingie I do sometimes. I read it in a book somewhere that it boosted self-confidence and… er, engendered a general sense of well-being, and it really does work, you should try it sometime," she said brightly.
She realized she was talking with her hands, gesturing a bit wildly, so she clasped them firmly behind her back.
He remained silent behind her, stressing her out completely, and she began babbling again. "What I'm saying is that I really don't want the shield. I mean, I think you've given me more than enough artifacts already, and I couldn't ask for anything else, so if you'll just go away now I'll resume my exercises. It's important that one does them alone."
More silence.
What on earth was he thinking? Was he going to burst into laughter? Was he smiling? She peered in the shield, but since she was up on the chair, he was several feet lower than she was and she couldn't see him.
"Dageus?" she said warily, refusing to turn. If she looked at him now, she might start crying. She'd so wanted the moment tonight to be tender and romantic, and damn it all, now if she said it to him tonight, he'd know she'd been practicing and he'd think she was a total dweeb!
"Aye, lass?" he said finally, slowly.
"Why aren't you going away?" she asked tightly.
A long pause, then a cautious, "If you doona mind, lass, I'd like to watch."
She closed her eyes. Was he making fun of her? "Absolutely not."
"With all the things we've done together, there's something you wouldn't let me watch? I think'tis a bit late to be getting self-conscious around me," he said. She couldn't decide if she was picking up a hint of lazy amusement in his voice or not.
"Go. A. Way," she gritted.
He didn't. She could feel him standing there, his regard an intense pressure on the back of her skull.
"Chloe-lass," he said then, softly. Tenderly. "Turn around, sweet."
He knew, she thought, absolutely mortified. Nobody would fall for that pathetic excuse she'd made up.
But this wasn't the moment she'd picked. She'd had it all planned out and he was ruining it for her!
"Chloe," he repeated softly.
"Oh!" Something in her suddenly, simply snapped, and she spun about to face him. Plunking her fists at her waist, she shouted, "I love you! Okay? But I didn't want to say it that way, I wanted to say it just right and you ruined it."
Scowling, she leaped from the chair and stormed from the hall.
* * *
Chapter 22
Dageus stood motionless in the great hall.
That had been singularly the most unforgettable moment of his life.
When he was his da's age—in the event he had the luxury of living that long—he had no doubt he'd still be replaying the vision of Chloe perched on that chair before the shield, practicing how to say she loved him, just right.
At first when he'd come abovestairs to fetch fresh candles for the chamber library, and he'd walked into the great hall, what she'd been doing hadn't made sense to him. He'd genuinely thought she was gushing over the artifact.
He teased her, and only then had he noticed the tension and misery emanating from her. She'd begun to babble, which was always a dead giveaway that she was upset. When she'd given him her absurd spiel about positive reinforcement or some such nonsense, he'd realized what she'd really been doing.
Practicing how to tell him she loved him.
How utterly adorable she was.
She loved him. She'd said it. Of course she'd shouted it at him, but a man could deal with that when the woman loved him more than the whole world was big.
He laughed exultantly, turned sharply on his heel, and hurried off to catch her. And to tell her that, since he was bigger, he was fair certain he loved her more.
But it didn't work out quite that way, for he didn't catch her until she was almost to the bedchamber.
And when he caught her, grasping at the billowing skirt of her gown, he tugged harder than he'd meant to and the thin silky fabric ripped. Clear up the back. And she had nothing on beneath it. Only those luscious shapely legs and the round curves of her beautiful behind. The fabric ripped clean to her nape and his thoughts turned instantly primitive and wild.