A Million Different Ways to Lose You (Horn Duet 2)

“Back the fuck away.” I had never heard Gideon use that language, or tone before and it shocked me. As much as it did Alek because he released me instantly.

“It’s okay, Gideon. I know him.” When he didn’t react I clarified, “From Albania.” Reluctantly, he backed away and after signaling to the waiter, he took a seat next to Justin a few tables down.

Alek’s silky black hair was longer, tucked behind his ears, not a single silver thread to be found anywhere. Still, obscenely handsome. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his navy blazer while he studied me. From my sharply bobbed hair to the designer clothes.

“You were always a pretty a girl…but you’ve become a stunning woman,” he said in Albanian. The compliment annoyed me beyond reason. Six years after his desertion and it was my looks he wanted to discuss? He read the resentment in my eyes easily. When I didn’t acknowledge the ridiculous observation he shifted tactic, “We have a lot to discuss––don’t you think?”

“No. I don’t,” I answered in English, drawing the line clearly. I was not the girl he knew anymore. I hadn’t been that naive girl in a long, long time.

“I’ve spent the last six years looking for you. The least you can do is allow me to explain.”

Everything began spinning. For a moment I thought I would faint on the sidewalk. Noticing the color drain from my face, Alek slipped a hand under my elbow and walked me to the table. As soon as I sat down, I took a very large gulp of Emilia’s water. Nobody at the table missed the way my hand trembled uncontrollably, or that the water barely made it to my lips. It embarrassed me. Two hot circles burned my cheeks. I glanced at Alek, trying to convince myself that he wasn’t a figment of my imagination, and saw concern marring his brow.

“Are you all right?”

“No.”

“We don’t have to talk right now. I’m not going anywhere. We have time.” His perceptive eyes roamed over my face in fascination. “How are you?”

“Married,” I said harshly, and help up the hand wearing the thin, platinum band.

The shock on his face evoked a pang of guilt in me. Should I have been more gentle? Was I trying to punish him? For the past six years I thought he had abandoned me. What if I had been wrong? So much I’d already thought to be true had been proven wrong. I didn’t know what to trust anymore.

As if on cue, Sebastian’s Bentley came speeding around the corner, Bear behind the wheel. The passenger side door swung open before the car came to a screeching halt in front of the restaurant. With all the commotion he was causing, every pair of eyes in the vicinity was on him––on us. Gideon and Justin were by his side immediately as he stalked up to the table. Fury emanated from every line on Sebastian’s body, his expression arctic. His eyes skipped back and forth from me to Alek, and turned scalding with contempt when they landed on Emilia.

Having the two of them standing next to each other was surreal. The comparison couldn’t be helped. Where Sebastian was openly forceful, the power he possessed to dominate straightforward, Alek was all stealth and subterfuge. His was a fox like cunning that was just as effective at getting what he wanted as Sebastian was with his force of will.

“Sebastian––”

“Get in the car.” The low murmur was bone chilling. I’d never seen him like this and it made me pause, the rest of my plea eaten up by a healthy dose of caution.

Alek stood up, glaring openly at Sebastian. I started to panic. I could see where this was headed and it was nowhere good.

“Fine. Let’s go,” I stated. I pushed out of my chair and tugged on Sebastian’s arm without any success as the two men continued to stare each other down.

“Who is this asshole?” Alek said in Albanian. I didn’t answer, my nerves stealing my ability to think on my feet, a hurricane of emotions gathering strength as I watched my past and my future colliding in my present.

“Who the fuck is this?” Sebastian murmured quietly. While he addressed me, his laser sharp attention remained fixed on Alek.

“I’m her fiancée,” Alek answered in perfect English.

“Sebastian, let’s go,” I said more sternly. By the look on Sebastian’s face the proverbial crap was about to hit the fan, the tension escalating by the second. This needed to end now. Turning, I began to walk to the car.

“How can I get a hold of you?” Aleks’ gentle plea tugged at my heart. I replied in the same language, Albanian, to get my cell number from Emilia, who was cowering near the table with a chastened look on her face. And after directing a well-earned furious glare in her direction, I stepped into the Bentley. A beat later Sebastian slid into the back of the car beside me.