the rain, I slide off Hero’s back and guide him next to Barcelona. There’s nowhere to tie him, but the two horses seem glad to see each other—and to find shelter—so I trust that he’ll stay put while I circle around the stable.
A foot from the shadowed entrance, I pause, leaning against the cool clay wall, tugging at my bottom lip with nervous fingers, searching for the perfect words.
But they don’t come.
I don’t have perfect words, or a perfect me, to give Andrew.
I am flawed, and I’ve made mistakes, but I love him.
I just hope that will be enough.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Andrew
I can’t hear a damn thing over the sound of the rain abusing the roof, but I know she’s found me.
I can sense her like a storm blowing in.
Like an earthquake about to shake my world apart.
But she’s already shaken me in ways I never imagined possible when I was plotting my way out of my arranged marriage two weeks ago. There’s not much more she can do at this point.
But then she steps into the doorway, soaked to the skin and shivering, but with that same fiery look in her eyes from that first day by the helicopter, and another seismic shift rocks my foundation. I want to tell her to leave and never come back, and I want to peel off her wet clothes with my teeth and make her come for me again—both in equal measure.
She steps through the door, and the light from my small lantern catches her curves, giving Team “Peel Her Clothes Off” a solid two-point lead.
I can’t help being attracted to her, but that doesn’t mean I have to do anything about it. I’ve already made an utter fool of myself with Sabrina Rochat. She can say whatever she came here to say, but she won’t be getting any further entertainment from me.
I stay slumped against the wall on my old sleeping bag, my arms resting on my bent knees, and watch her with what I hope is a bored expression as she takes another step closer.
“I know you’re probably expecting me to say how sorry I am.” Her voice is so soft I can barely hear her over the rain. “But I’m not sorry. Because if I hadn’t come here in my sister’s place, I never would have gotten to know you the way I know you know.”
I grunt. “That’s all you’ve got to say for yourself?’
“No, of course not.” She tangles her fingers in front of her as she shivers harder. “I have so much I want to say, so much I want you to know, but…” She swallows audibly before rushing on. “But you’re looking at me like you want to carve out of my liver. It’s making it hard to think.”
I narrow my eyes. “I don’t want your liver. I don’t want anything to do with any part of you.”
Her eyes flash. “You don’t mean that.”
I don’t, but I want to mean it, and that’s going to have to be good enough for now. “Go back to the castle and pack your things,” I say. “I’ll arrange for your trip home as soon as it’s safe to travel.”
A pained expression tightens her sweet face, that face I’m going to miss so much it’s fucking pathetic. I’m going to miss her smile and the way she bites her lip when she’s thinking and the thoughtful gleam in her eyes when she’s working to find the best, least harmful thing to say.
How have I become so attached to her in such a short amount of time? She’s beautiful and clever and funny, but she’s just another girl. Nothing special, really, when you get right down to it.
Something deep in my bones growls in protest to the thought, but I ignore it.
She’s not special. She’s a liar, and I can’t trust that anything about her is real.
“All right.” Her chin trembles, but the look in her eyes is as stubborn as ever. “I’ll go, but first, I want you to know…” Her tongue slips out to wet her lips, making me think of how hot it was to kiss her in the sunset, to go down on her while the wind whipped her hair around her face, carrying every soft moan and sigh straight to my ears. “I was going to tell you the truth tonight. I tried to tell you several times after we left the picnic, in fact, but you kept interrupting me.”
“I was horny. Sue me.”
She flinches but doesn’t back