Looking at her, he did the only thing he could. He told her the truth.
“Is forgiveness such a bad thing?” he whispered. “I love you enough to forgive you anything.”
Her expression was almost indescribable. Tender and exasperated, and with a deep, underlying well of concern.
Then she did a foolish thing.
The most completely unexpected thing.
She took his face in both hands and kissed him. Her lips were so soft, the caress so generous, it made everything clean and new again. It couldn’t be the last kiss, the final touch he would ever receive from her, or he would lie down and die. When she pulled away, he snatched her out of the chair and held on to her.
“It’s a hell of a thing to know, isn’t it?” she said. “That somebody loves you enough to forgive you for anything. I have to tell you, soldier — right now it’s a good thing I love you enough to forgive you anything too. So, yay for us, right?”
The same complexity that made her expression unreadable layered her voice. He muttered, “I don’t understand.”
“I don’t either, but maybe we can finally get to the bottom of this.” She hugged him, then pushed out of his arms and rose to her feet. He stood with her. “Something — or someone — has such a hold over you that you can’t hear me when I say I didn’t cheat.” She faced him, hands on her hips. “I want to know who did this to us, and why. Tell me what happened.”
He considered her with a frown. She clearly wasn’t hurling accusations, or trying to start a fight. She looked like she was ready to go into battle, but while her words were determined her voice remained calm.
Rubbing the back of his neck, he turned away. “I don’t know who did it. The why seems pretty obvious — a lot of people weren’t happy that you and I were seeing each other. One day I received a packet of photographs.” He looked over his shoulder at her. “They were of you having sex with Ferion.”
She looked like he had slapped her. “Somebody sent you photographs of me and Ferion? Ferion, the new Elven Lord?”
He lifted a hand and let it fall, looking away.
She strode around to stand in front of him, planting her hands on her hips. “The photos were a lie. I have never been, nor have I ever wanted to be, with Ferion.”
She looked so furious and determined.
And every word she said felt like the Gospel truth.
It threw him into chaos. Once he had thought she wouldn’t tell him the truth. Then he thought she couldn’t, but this was something else entirely. At this point, she had no stake in maintaining any lie, and his gut kept insisting that he believe her.
But…
“I couldn’t accept what I was looking at, so I had the photos examined.” He rubbed his face and looked at her over his hand. “Melly, the images weren’t manipulated. They were real.”
He tried to say it in as neutral a tone as possible, but her eyes dilated in quick reaction. She hissed, “No, they weren’t.”
As he stared at her, the feeling in his gut worsened. Of all the ways he might have imagined this conversation going, this wasn’t it.
“Once I verified the photos hadn’t been doctored, I had to know when and how it could have happened. Remember when you were on location for that movie in Singapore? You told me you were too busy to take a break.” He paused. He had to. Her distress was so palpable, he found himself reluctant to add to it. He added more softly, “But after a little research, I discovered you had gone to New York.”
Her mouth tightened as her gaze turned inward and searching, looking back in time.
She said abruptly, “Yes, that’s right. I did go for a quick visit. It was the only break I took, which is why I told you I didn’t have any time. Bailey bought tickets to a Broadway show that she knew I’d been wanting to see. She insisted, and I felt like I couldn’t say no. I’d been spending all my free time with you and I hadn’t seen her in ages, so I got on a plane, flew in, saw the show with her and left again.” Her voice shook. “What did you do with the photos?”
“I burned them,” he said between his teeth. “Then I ground the ashes to dust. And I tried my damnedest to hunt down the motherfucker who had sent them to me, so I could break his face and fingers. Because clearly somebody was trying to start some shit — so I was going to give them shit.”
Her eyes widened. “Did you find who sent them?”
“No. But I broke my fist on Ferion’s face the next time I saw him, so there’s that.” He needed a minute, so he strode into his walk-in closet to pull on a pair of faded jeans.
When he walked back out, Melly was sitting in the armchair again, her arms wrapped around her middle. She looked shaken and a little ill. Quickly, he crossed the room to her. “What is it?”
She shook her head. Just when he thought she wasn’t going to respond any more than that, she whispered, “The photos were real?”
As he gazed down at her, the bad feeling in his gut solidified into certainty. Before, he had followed the evidence until it had broken him down. Now, despite all the evidence to the contrary, he knew she was telling the truth.
He didn’t know how any of it had happened, but he knew one thing.
She had always been telling the truth.
“I believe you,” he breathed. “I don’t know how any of it happened, but I believe you.”
Her reddened gaze lifted to his. There was so much grief in her expression, he knelt in front of her. She put her arms around his neck. He scooped her out of the chair and sat with her on his lap, and she hid her face in him.
Could she have been drugged or coerced? His mind ran through a series of possibilities, each one more extreme than the last. His arms clamped around her while his emotions raged out of control.
“Melly, I’m so sorry,” he said from the back of his throat.
She pushed upright to look into his eyes. She looked fierce and determined. “You forgave me, and I forgave you. We’re drawing a line and moving on, remember?”
His jaw clenched. He couldn’t have felt more cut up if Justine had taken her knife to his insides. “But I forgave you for something you didn’t do.”
“You didn’t know that, which makes it all the more precious to me. You genuinely forgave me. In fact, it sounds to me like you tried everything you could do to prove it wasn’t true.” She scrubbed her face with the back of one hand, her mouth turned down in an unhappy bow. “Tell me what the woman in the photos looked like.”
He didn’t want to go there, but her words took him back to the moment he pulled them out of the manila envelope. The images were burned into his mind. Reluctantly, he said, “She looked like you.”
Her chin shook. “How long was her hair?”
“It was the length of your hair. It fell down her back, just like…” His eyes narrowed suddenly. “Why would you ask that?”
She laid a hand against his cheek. “Because I’m about to accuse my sister of doing something, and I don’t know if I can forgive her for it.”
“Oh, fuck me,” he growled. As much as he had obsessed over what had happened, he had never considered that. “Everything pointed to you.”
“I know.” Her eyes reddened again. “Someone put effort into making that happen, didn’t they?”
Quiet footsteps sounded outside in the hall. Gregoire said telepathically, Sir, I’m very sorry to bother you.
Turning his head toward the door, he asked, What is it?
First sentinel Graydon is here. Should I tell him that you and Miss Melisande are unavailable?
While he was tempted to say yes, Graydon had done a great deal for them in the last two days. Julian pressed a kiss to Melly’s forehead and told her, “Graydon’s downstairs. I need to have a word with him. Would you like to come, or should I go down by myself?”