So he couldn’t love her. Because he couldn’t bear what would happen if it slipped out. He couldn’t lose what little he did have with her. No matter how much he wanted more. He was the scheming villain who’d caught her in his trap, and she was the righteous hero making the best of her fate. They were a noble tragedy, not a love story. Robin shifted in her sleep, stretching her other leg out and onto his lap as she relaxed even further. Her hair had fallen out of the pins and was spilling over her shoulder. John rested his hand on her leg again and closed his eyes, unable to pretend he didn’t
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