I clamp onto his wrist, attempting to pull his hand from my throat. It locks iron tight, still not hurting but ensuring I stay in place. I’ve angered him by calling him a coward and trying to force him to have the same feelings I do. The new Bastien apparently doesn’t like emotion at all.
He pulls back slightly and looks down my body. With his free hand, he plucks at the collar of his shirt I’m wearing. It’s loose around my chest, and he can see straight inside.
His eyes come up to me, and he sneers. “Was this some effort to try to win me over? Dressing in my shirt, naked underneath.” His voice turns husky, and it sends a shiver up my spine. “What do you want me to say, Thalia? That you’re as beautiful as I remember? That I’m still attracted to you? That I find you very fuckable right now?”
“Do you?” I whisper, knowing I’ll die if he says no.
Bastien smiles, and it’s neither warm nor loving. It’s wholly sinister. “Of course, you’re fuckable. There’s not a soldier in the dorms who would pass up a shot with you.”
I screech with rage, clawing at his hand to release my throat. I try to bring my knee up between his legs, but he turns, and it glances off his thigh.
My inability to escape his hold, which is only in place because I goaded him, makes me see red. I lash out, intent on hurting him with my words since I’m too weak to hurt him physically.
“A whole dormitory of soldiers, huh?” I smile sweetly. “Sounds like shopping in a candy store. I thank you for the suggestion.”
Bastien growls a warning, and rather than scare me, I take heart. “You’ll stay away from the soldiers, or I’ll lock you in this house.”
Yes. That right there was the sound of jealousy, and you’ll never convince me otherwise. It fills me with hope, and I have to believe there’s a possibility that Bastien’s heart will thaw.
Maybe with just a kiss.
A touch.
If we made love.
My hands go lax on his wrist and then fall to his chest. I push in close to him and surprisingly, he doesn’t hold me back, although his hand remains on my throat, whisper light. Tipping my head, I murmur, “I’m right here, Bastien. We could pick up where we were. I could be something to you again if you tried.”
There… another wash of emotion ripples his face.
It looks like agony mixed with denial.
He releases me so abruptly, I almost slump to the floor but manage to lock my legs to keep myself upright. Shaking his head, Bastien says, “I already have someone, Thalia. You and I can’t be anything.”
I’m so stunned that I stumble backward into the dresser again. My hands go to steady myself.
The expression on Bastien’s face is pinched with tension, and that jaw muscle leaps dramatically. “I’m going to stay at the dorms from here on out. I’ll keep guards posted around you day and night so you’ll be protected.”
I can do nothing but nod mutely in understanding. Gods… he has someone. And I just made a complete fool of myself trying to get something back that has been given to someone else.
So stupid, Thalia.
My gaze wanders over to the bed where I stare as Bastien grabs his shirt from the floor and marches out of the room. Only when I hear the front door close behind him do I sag onto the floor and let the tears fall.
CHAPTER 12
Bastien
Bastien left his home and Thalia behind. He’d lied to her by saying he was involved with someone else but hoped it left the impression that he was going there for some warm comfort. Maybe then she’d give up this ridiculous idea that they could fall in love again.
Instead, he went to a pub near the town’s center and chose a table in a dark corner. When the barkeep brought the rye whiskey and a single glass, Bastien ordered him to leave the bottle.
He was halfway through it when Kieran found him, and Bastien wasn’t pleased to see his brother kick a chair out and sink down into it.
“What do you want?” Bastien grumbled, his head swimming a little, his tongue feeling thick.
“Ian told me you were here drowning your sorrows, and since you’re the quintessential uptight man who never gets drunk, I decided to come check it out.”
Bastien glowered at Ian behind the bar and had half a mind to beat him senseless for calling on Kieran to come here. He wasn’t a child who needed minding.
Kieran reached forward and grabbed the bottle, eschewing a glass and drinking straight from the source. He grimaced after swallowing. “That tastes like turpentine.”
Bastien ignored his brother. He didn’t want conversation. He’d had enough of it with Thalia back at the cottage. She was infuriating and nonsensical and sexier than any woman had a right to be. When he saw her in his shirt, something cracked inside his chest, and he didn’t like the feeling at all. He was overwhelmed with her—the sight, the smell, the promise. It took everything to restrain himself from taking her right there. Whipping that damn shirt off her, losing himself in her body.