let my head fall forward, my hair creating a curtain between me and the room.
“You won’t even consider it?” My eyes are once again drawn to him when I hear the sadness to his tone.
Honestly? “I can’t.”
He stands silent, his stare unwavering. “Very well.”
“Nathan.” I reach out, twisting on the bench so I can grab his wrist. “It’s not you.”
“No,” he snarls and tugs his wrist free. “It’s Caleb.”
What the hell is that supposed to mean? “I love Caleb. I’m his fiancée, Nathan.” I follow him out of my room and practically chase him down the stairs and into the living room. He stops at the window, his hands gripping the frame as he stares through the rain splattered glass.
“It’s time for you to move on, Guinevere.” I daren’t open my mouth for fear of crying or verbally attacking him. “I’m sorry he’s gone, truly I am, but you need to let go.”
“I don’t want to talk about this,” I say to the floor, wishing I could curl my legs to my chest. Stupid fat belly.
“You need to talk about it sooner or later.”
I shake my head slowly, closing my eyes for a moment. “Yes and when I do, it won’t be with you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He sounds genuinely affronted. “He was my brother. If you talk to anyone it should be me.”
“You have no tact.” I look him dead in the eye. “You have no tact and no compassion. I’m his fiancée and this is my decision. When I’m ready to let go, I’ll let go.”
“Therein lies your problem.” Why is he speaking to me like this? “You said ‘I’m his fiancée’. You were his fiancée. Past tense.”
“Christ, you’re a dick,” I snarl and instantly realise my mistake.
He’s away from the window and in seconds he’s in front of me. I cower under his harsh glare and scramble away from him. Darting for the hall, I don’t even make it through the archway as an arm wraps around my waist directly above my stomach. It doesn’t hurt and he’s not rough but it’s strong enough to stop me in my tracks.
I feel the cool leather of his gloved hand as it moves my hair from my shoulder. His chest is pressed against my back and his lips slightly touch the shell of my ear.
“Let this be your last warning,” he whispers dangerously into my ear. “If you disobey me again, I will put you over my knee, pregnant or not.”
“That’s not even possible. Have you seen the size of my belly?”
I feel him tense.
“I’m not a child. If you hit me, I will report you.”
He tenses further.
My body is trembling and I can’t stop it. I’ve never been so scared in my life.
I feel his chest shaking and for a moment I think he’s crying. I’m wrong, he’s laughing. What the hell is wrong with this guy? “If you say so, Gwen.”
“This isn’t funny.”
He stops laughing and his body stills. “No, it’s not funny, you’re right.”
“We need to get past this and we needed to do it yesterday.” Pulling away from him, I walk a few steps before turning, my body tense in preparation for the argument that we’re no doubt going to have. “I don’t know what’s going through your mind and I don’t know how you’ve rationalised this, but it doesn’t make sense.”
“It makes perfect sense,” he responds, his tone loud and a little smug.
Okay, let’s try this another way. “You’re his brother. This is the twenty first century. Things like this don’t happen any longer and if they do, they’re frowned upon.”
“You genuinely care what people think?”
I scowl, my annoyance turning into anger. “I care what Caleb thinks.”
“Caleb is dead.” Why does he have to be so cold? “Don’t give me that look, it’s the truth.”
“And one day I’ll be dead and I’ll have to go up there and deal with the pain he feels knowing that I was sharing a bed with his brother just a few short months after his life ended so quickly.”
He rolls his eyes. “You’re romanticising reality. He’s gone, I’m here. It’s that simple.”
“You’re tarnishing your brother’s memory by even suggesting I marry you,” I shout, my hands in fists by my sides. My face feels warm. “I won’t.”
His eyes darken. “And why not? Just because of my brother?”
“Because I don’t think of you in that way!”
He laughs cruelly. “I’d believe you if your eyes weren’t flickering all over the place, Guinevere. You don’t lie very well. You’re too