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

“Is that the script all of you are following?”

While he considered my claim, Bear scratched his goatee, the letters r-e-l-a-x tattooed on the back of his fingers taunting me. It would’ve been ridiculously funny if it weren’t for the fact that I suspected the man I loved sought his vengeance by planting evidence.

“No. But if you have any more questions, you should speak to him about it.”

Whatever had happened to Paisley would have to wait. I had more pressing issues to deal with, first and foremost to close the ever widening gap between Sebastian and me. I was anxious to see him. All day I had been glancing at the clock, counting the minutes until he came home. It was already late when he texted that he wouldn’t make it in time for dinner. After that, I lost my appetite completely. Reading was out of the question––it was impossible to concentrate––so in a desperate effort to relax, I took a bath.

The tub in the master bathroom was so big it took an eternity to fill––along with half a bottle of scented Epson salts. After dimming the lights, I turned on the sound system that was wired throughout most of the house and slid into the water up to my chin. Gnossiennes No. 1 Lent, the sweet sound of Satie, filtered through the air, dominating my attention and easing my worries for the moment. My head fell back on the beveled edge and my eyes fluttered shut as the music cast its spell on me.

Slowly but surely the heat leeched away the stiffness in my muscles. It also loosened the steel grip I had on my emotions. All alone, with only the sound of my thoughts to keep me company, everything I was trying to keep at bay surged forward. The pain it evoked seared my throat and stung my eyes.

“Hey,” a sexy, gravelly voice called out.

My eyes popped open to find him standing next to the tub, yanking on his tie. The expression on his face was unguarded, reaching out to me. Hope blossomed in my heart that he was ready to let me behind the walls of his fortress once again. Moving closer, he ran his fingers through my hair.

“You got a haircut?”

All I could do was nod. The power he had over me was frightening. He could enslave me with a mere touch. My eyelids grew heavy as he ran his fingers along my jawline and down my neck. When he stepped away to undress, my skin turned cold and hypersensitive where his warmth had been. One piece at a time, he discarded his clothing carelessly. It pooled at his feet.

My loving eyes drank in every square inch of tan skin he revealed, the long, graceful lines of his body––the scars. A reminder of all he’d suffered and overcome…a reminder of what an amazing man he was. I tucked the image away in the deepest reaches of my mind to treasure forever.

He stepped into the water and sat down facing me. His long legs stretched out, surrounding my body. My knees came up to give him more room. Without thought, my hand idly stroked his injured knee. If he was within reach it was imperative that I touch him, compelled by some magnetic force I was powerless to resist. I drew circles around the kneecap and watched the tight line of his full mouth go slack at the sensation.

The air between us felt pregnant with truths and omissions that hadn’t been revealed yet, with words that hadn’t been spoken. I didn’t know how to begin. I was a coward, a fraud. My entire life I’d prided myself on my strength of will, and yet when I needed it most, it had deserted me.

Paralyzed by indecision, I placed my chin on top of my knees and watched him slowly sink below the water. A beat later, like some mythical sea creature, he broke the surface for air and slicked his wet hair back. Sometimes I wondered if he understood the measure of his appeal. It certainly didn’t seem that way.

Droplets of water collected on his long lashes. The path they took as they slid down his cheeks and caught on his sensual lips held me captive. An urge to lick them away came over me. Leaning in, I traced his lips with my tongue, nibbled on his full bottom one, and kissed him gently. When I pulled back there was no doubt, no question of what he was thinking––it was all there in those bottomless pools of amber. So expressive…those eyes. I wanted to dive in and lose myself in them, disappear altogether to a place where I wasn’t haunted by the mistakes I’d made.

Everything I was fighting to keep tightly locked down finally broke loose. “It’s my fault,” I whispered, my lips barely moving, my jaw quivering from the pressure. “I didn’t want the baby…not at first.” I began regurgitating words. Like sour milk, they couldn’t stay down a second longer; they were making me ill. More than anything, I needed him to assuage my battered soul. I needed his absolution.