"I will never forgive myself if harm comes to Theo and the others back at the cabin."

His hands slid up her arms, warming her. "You never forgive yourself for anything. You carry the weight of two worlds on your shoulders. Relax a little."

"You aren't the one to be giving advice in that area, Adam. Not with the burden of your wife's death on your heart."

Adam went rigid. "Let's not talk about Eliza." His voice carried a clear note of warning. He meant it, too.

Claire apparently hadn't heard it. She pushed up and leaned back against the pillows, crossing her arms over her chest. "Not talk about Eliza? Adam, I think it's long past time you talked of her. You can't go into the future wearing glasses that taint everything in the present by an event in the past."

He bolted from the bed and pushed a hand through his hair. "I knew I never should have told you about her."

"And what then? You'd have gone on without telling anyone? Just wearing that silly mask of yours to hide the guilt you feel over her death? Adam, it wasn't your fault."

"Claire—"

"If you don't let it go, you'll never have another relationship like the one you had with her." She paused, her lower lip trembling. "You'll never know love again, Adam."

Adam stopped and stared, the words on the tip of his tongue—but I do know love again. But he wasn't going to say that. Not now. Not when she was pushing so hard on issues he didn't want any part of.

Because while he had found love again—totally against his will—he knew he was still holding back. And, gods, he was terrified he'd lose that love again—not be able to hold onto Claire when she most needed him, not be able to protect her even though he felt like he'd been born to do that job.

Claire sat with the blankets clutched in her narrow hands, moonlight spilling in and bleaching the color from her already pale skin. Her dark curls hung around her shoulders like silk and her expression was tight, worried.

Adam whirled and stared at the door, wanting to leave the room with every fiber of his being. He couldn't. He couldn't leave her alone tonight—or at all. There was no escape from her words or the truth in them.

"Adam?"

He turned, realizing he'd been staring at the door for some time. He'd told her he'd stay and he must. The demons could show at any time.

But for the first time since he'd met her all he wanted was to get away from her. She said things he didn't want to hear—and would never want to hear.

Claire awoke to Adam's back. He'd slept that way all night. She knew because she hadn't been able to sleep much at all, falling into a fitful slumber only toward dawn.