has changed, and I don’t know what it is. But there’s one thing I do know for sure, I need to find out.
Chapter 27
I don’t have to wait long.
During the next dance, when I find myself facing him once again, he says to me under his breath, “Meet me in our place in ten minutes.”
I nod my eager assent and instantly feel the weight of worry lift from my shoulders.
As he moves away to his partner, Reggie, I chew on my lip. This weirdness has all got to be for the cameras, nothing more. He’s playing the game, making sure it looks like an even playfield, as though he hasn’t already given me his heart.
A few minutes later and I’ve told anyone who will listen that I need to visit the little Lizzies’ room (read: bathroom), I’ve switched off my mic, and am now staring out at the evening sky from one of the long library windows.
Sebastian quietly enters the room.
I turn and smile at him, relieved to see him away from the glare of the cameras, the contestants, and Camille.
Especially Camille.
I move across the floor and wrap my arms around his waist. I close my eyes and tilt my head up to kiss him, but when I don’t feel his lips on mine, I ping them open. “There are no cameras here, Seb.”
His body rigid, he says, “Emma,” in a way that immediately makes my tummy twist with apprehension.
This hasn’t got anything to do with cameras. This is something else instead.
I drop my arms to my side and gaze up at him, fear rising inside. “What’s going on?”
He pinches the skin between his eyes and steps away from me. He reaches the fireplace, where he places his hand on the mantle and looks back at me. “It’s not going to work.”
“What’s not going to work?” I ask in a measured tone as I take a couple of tentative steps toward him. “The show? Saving Martinston? What?”
His eyes bore into me. “I’m going to cut to the chase, Emma. You deserve that in the very least.”
“Cut to the chase about what?”
He clenches his jaw. “I-I need to send you home.”
I let out a surprised laugh, certain this has got to be a joke. “Sure you do.”
He doesn’t look like he’s joking.
My heart begins to thud. “Seb?”
“I’m so sorry, Emma.”
He’s sorry? Sebastian’s sorry he’s sending me home?
“What? Why?” I ask, totally flummoxed.
Of all the things I thought this was, being sent home wasn’t one of them.
“It’s the way it’s got to be.”
I blink at him in shocked disbelief. “You’re actually sending me home? As in back to the States?”
He gives a short, stiff nod. “Yes.”
Is this really happening?
“But-but why? I don’t get it.”
“Because I have to. I’ve got no choice in the matter.”
“Of course you’ve got a choice. You’re Mr. Darcy.”
His features tighten. “It’s not that simple, Emma. I wish it was but it’s-it’s out of my control.”
“It’s out of your control? I don’t understand.” I reach his side and place my hands on his arm. The thudding of my heart drums in my ears. “Tell the production company to leave you alone, Seb. You can make up your own mind who you choose.”
He casts his eyes down. “It’s not them.”
It’s not the production company?
If it’s not them, that means … that means it’s him. It’s his decision. He’s sending me home.
I swallow down my rising desperation. “Why?” I ask once more, my voice growing harsh.
He lets out a heavy breath. “Emma, what we have has been so very special, and I’ll never forget you. I wish it didn’t have to be this way. I wish—” He stops abruptly. His eyes tell me he’s finding this hard, that he doesn’t want to do it.
But damn him, he’s doing it anyway.
I pull my hands away as I fight back the urge to cry. “What about all the time we spent together, Seb? All the things we talked about? You opened up to me. You don’t do that when all you’re doing is having a bit of fun with someone.” Tentatively, I place one of my hands back on his arm. “This afternoon, when I met Zara, she said—”
He interrupts me with, “Zara says a lot of things.” He turns away from me, and my heart sinks to my belly.
He means it. I got it wrong. I made something out of nothing, and now it’s come crashing down around me.
This reality show has messed with my head.
He’s messed with my head.
And I’m the