“I’m trying to help you!”
“I don’t believe you!” she cried. Part of her knew she was being unfair but as she felt tears rise behind her eyes, she was beyond being reasonable. “Are you torturing me for your own amusement? To finally get me into bed?”
His eyebrows lowered. “You’re tortured?”
“I don’t need your pity!” She felt vulnerable and raw. “I’m not going to fall for you. I’m not. You can just … forget it!”
With a choked sob, she dropped the horse’s rope as she covered her face with her hands.
“Don’t drop the rope!” he said tersely, but it was too late. As soon as the mare was free, the animal immediately took off at a run, the rope flying behind her in the wind.
Stefano chased the horse down, caught the rope, soothed her with his touch and soft words, then led her out of the pen. When he finally came back to Annabelle, she could see the grim line of his body, the way he clenched his hands at his sides.
“I’ve saddled your horse. Go back to the house.”
He was sending her away? “Fine,” she said over the lump in her throat.
He came closer, his jaw set, his voice hard. “I was trying to help you, you know,” he said. “I was trying to be unselfish for once in my damned life. But have it your way. Go back to your solitary, lonely world. Enjoy being alone and closed off from the world.”
She flinched. She’d gotten what she wanted—she’d driven him away. He’d given up on her. Just what she expected. She drove everyone away sooner or later.
“Fine,” she repeated. She rubbed her aching temple, then wiped away tears with an angry fist as she turned away.
“What happened to your face?” he demanded harshly behind her.
Annabelle froze.
She realized she must have rubbed off the last of her makeup. Now, to top everything else, he’d seen her scar. He knew how vulnerable and ugly she really was.
“It’s nothing,” she said. She quickened her pace, desperate to get away.
She heard him come up swiftly behind her. “Stop,” he said roughly. “Let me see your face!”
Annabelle wanted to collapse on the ground and sob. He’d given her the kiss of a lifetime. For the space of a few hours, she’d almost thought they were friends. Now … this is all he would remember of her. The ugly scarred monster.
Slowly, Annabelle turned.
“Oh, my God,” he breathed, coming closer. “What happened to you?”
Beneath the merciless sun, she lifted her bangs, turning her face upward so he could see the deep red scar stretching down her face.
“Are you satisfied?” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “This is who I really am. A monster. Why did you have to give me hope I might ever be more than this?”
Stefano stared down at her, his expression a mask of shock. Annabelle looked up at his wide, dark eyes and saw horror and disgust.
With a choked sob, Annabelle turned and ran blindly, streaking over the wooden fence toward the forest.
This is who I really am.
Her choked, tear-sodden words still echoed in Stefano’s ears as he stared after her, overwhelmed by the vision of her ruined, lovely face. The ugly red line had slithered down her forehead and cheek like a poisonous snake. A monster.
His heart pounded in his throat. What had happened to her? Had she gotten the scar by accident? Or by the hand of man?
With a sob, Annabelle had turned and run.
With an intake of breath, Stefano ran after her. But this time, she was faster than he’d ever expected. She didn’t want to be caught. Grimly, he crashed through the underbrush and into the forest. He saw Annabelle just ahead, her long blond hair streaming behind her. His stride was longer, his legs were faster, his stamina greater. He caught up with her on the other edge of the forest, pushing her into the bright, open meadow beyond.
“Let me go!” she cried.