Winston was pacing across the long, wide floor as she entered. He looked up quickly as she closed the door, that flat, golden key clutched in her hand as if it were a good luck talisman. He skirted around the piano and rushed to her.

“I was so worried, Soleil. I must have texted you a hundred times. Come in and sit down, darling.” Not waiting for a reply, he took her wrist and pulled her across the room to the low-slung couch.

The couch was nearest the door and guest bathroom, but still too far into the enormous room for her to be entirely comfortable. The room made her feel as if it were going to swallow her whole. Still, she sat down, clutching the golden key to the elevator, feeling as if it would see her through the discussion she needed to have with him.

“I’ll get us both a drink and we can talk.”

Why did she hate the sound of his voice? He always said the right thing, but his tone was condescending, or, like now, when he tried to convey worry and sympathy, he sounded as if he were acting—and he wasn’t all that good of an actor. Still, a drink sounded good. She hadn’t eaten anything, but a drink might be just the thing to help her explain that she was going to call off their wedding for good.

“I don’t know why I lost my temper, but I really am sorry. I was so afraid I’d lose you and I reacted like a madman.”

He poured her a small glass of whiskey. She preferred whiskey, and she really needed it, especially as he was giving her his sweetest, most boyish look designed to make her feel bad for him.

“Here, darling, drink that and we’ll talk.”

He drank half the glass he’d poured for himself in one gulp, so without thinking, Soleil tossed back a good portion of the whiskey and nearly choked. Tears burned and for a moment her throat felt like it was on fire. She could barely catch her breath.

Winston regarded her over the top of his crystal glass, amusement on his face. He did that a lot—laughed at her. Not overtly, but definitely he found her amusing and not in a good way. It was as if she was so young and naïve, and he was worldly, and she couldn’t quite catch up. She supposed she deserved his estimation of her. It didn’t matter that she knew she could drink him under the table, she shouldn’t have tried to throw back half a glass.

“Winston, I—”

He held up his hand. “I know what you’re going to say. You’re such a sweet, compassionate woman and I know you’re going to just dismiss my bad behavior, but it was terrible, and I need to give you my word nothing like that will ever happen again. I feel sick about my behavior. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

Over the course of the last couple of months, there had been numerous promises. She couldn’t even remember what they were, but thinking back, he’d never come through. She nodded and cautiously crossed the room to get a bottle of water. The whiskey was doing what she needed though, making her feel as if she could tell him what she needed to.

“Winston,” she began again after taking a soothing sip of water and reseating herself. “This isn’t going to work between us. I think you know that.”

“Of course it is. I made a mistake. It was absolutely stupid of me, but I was so afraid of losing you. Lately, we’ve been out of sync . . .”

“Exactly.” She pounced on that. “I feel as if you don’t like anything about me. Not one thing, Winston. The way I dress. My friends. The way I talk. You have to correct everything I do and then I’m still not good enough.”

“Darling.”

He looked terribly distressed, so much so that her heart hurt. She didn’t like hurting anyone. She finished off the whiskey and automatically handed him the glass when he put out his hand for it.

Winston took it from her and crossed to the bar. “If I made you feel like that, you should have told me immediately. I love you with every breath I take. I want to be your husband and go through life with you.”

“We don’t like the same movies or music.” Soleil felt a little desperate. He was looking a little like a kicked puppy instead of a barracuda, and she wasn’t good at all with hurting people. She kept trying to assert herself even as she took the drink from him.

“Keep going, Soleil. I had no idea you thought I wasn’t happy with you. I need to hear this. It’s the only way to fix what’s broken between us.”

“You don’t like to dance. You aren’t in the least bit proud of the way I look. You want me to change my hair and makeup and wear clothes I consider far too old for me. I don’t understand why you think you love me, Winston.”

Tags: Christine Feehan Torpedo Ink Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net