The Getaway Bride

“I never claimed to be Prince Charming,” he returned with what might have been dry amusement.

No, he’d never made such a claim. But there’d been a time when she’d thought he was just that.

The memories were getting too insistent. It was becoming harder for her to keep that mental lid closed. She worried that if she allowed it to open fully, she would never find the strength to slam it down again.

It was the same reason she never allowed herself to cry. She’d been afraid that if she started, she would never stop. She felt very much like crying now. The temptation to dissolve into tears and tell Gabe everything was almost overwhelming.

Only the awareness that doing so could prove deadly gave her the strength to force the emotions aside. Within moments she could feel herself returning to that cool, brittle, ever-vigilant automaton she’d become in the past years. She could look at Gabe without softening now, her mind clear, her thoughts racing ahead, watching for an opportunity to escape.

He lifted an eyebrow as he watched her. Had her mental transformation somehow been visible to him?

“Page?” he asked, sounding wary.

She stood. He did, too.

She took a step closer to him, holding his gaze with her own. “You’ll know if I tell you the truth?”

A bit suspiciously, he nodded. “I’ll know.”

“Good. Then read my lips, Gabe. I want you to stay away from me. Far away. Am I telling the truth?”

“Yes,” he muttered, looking deeply into her eyes.

“I want you to go back to Austin and get on with your life. I want you to stop following me, stop asking questions that are none of your business. Are those lies, Gabe?”

He shook his head. “No.”

She drew a deep breath. “I’m going to leave here now. There’s nothing you can do to stop me, short of physically hurting me. I know you won’t do that.”

“You can’t be so sure,” he countered, inching closer, their eyes still locked. “You aren’t the only one who has changed, Page. I’m prepared to do whatever I think I have to do. Do you believe that?”

She searched his face. “Yes,” she whispered. “I believe you. But—”

His hands fell on her shoulders. “Give me one more honest answer, and I’ll consider letting you go.”

She braced herself. “What?”

“Did you love me the day you walked away from me?” he asked unexpectedly.

Her eyelashes twitched, but she didn’t look away. “No.”

What might have been grim satisfaction crossed his face. “Liar,” he said softly.

She caught her breath. “I’m not—”

His mouth covered hers.

His kiss wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t tender. It held a world of anger and hurt and betrayal.

It broke what was left of her heart.

“For only a moment she let herself soften against him. Her hands rested on his chest, palms spread against his warmth and strength.

The kiss changed. Slowed. Deepened. Just for a little while, she allowed herself to enjoy it

Gabe was the one who broke away with a deep groan. He buried his face in her hair. “Damn you, Page,” he muttered unsteadily.

Her heart spasmed at the pain in his voice. She stiffened and pushed away from him, catching him momentarily off guard. She broke free of him and turned to run toward the door.