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

“Shit…keep doing that,” he purred, his eyes briefly falling shut. After a deep sigh, he added, “The audit’s postponed. They were reasonable about it, considering I wasn’t in the best state of mind when I spoke to them.”

How long would the unintended consequences of my actions haunt me? Then again, the alternative had been unthinkable. And the risk hadn’t lessened. I still didn’t know what damage Paisley could inflict. I had been literally in the dark for weeks.

“I’m sorry,” I said, a pathetically inadequate phrase that would be ever present on my tongue in the weeks to come. His eyes returned to me, assessing, searching. For what, I wasn’t certain. The only thing I was certain of anymore was that I didn’t want to cause him another moment’s worth of pain as long as I lived. “What are you going to do about Paisley?”

The look that flashed across his face made the fine hairs on my arm stand up. “I took care of it.” His eyes narrowed into two golden slits, unfocused and far away––the predator always lurking beneath the surface of his civilized demeanor. My instincts warned me not to ask any more questions.

“You need a haircut,” I said, while I continued to pet him. “Between the hair and the scruff, you look more like a sexy pirate than a banker.”

His sensual mouth twitched and twitched until finally lifting up on one side. It was the first time since I’d awoken in the hospital that I could detect even a small measure of humor in his expression. I would’ve done anything to keep that smile on his face. “My sexy pirate,” I murmured suggestively.

All at once his expression sobered. He looked me squarely in the eyes, and said, “I love you.” It sounded like an admission I had coerced out of him. As if defeated, he reluctantly surrendered his feelings. It never occurred to me that hearing those words from him could make me feel bad. The urge to close the distance between us grew overpowering. I was out of bed and onto his lap so fast it took him by surprise.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I said, “I was wondering if I would ever hear those words from you again…although it doesn’t sound like you’re happy about it.”

Nothing felt better than being in his arms again. The sense of relief I felt was beyond words. It had been years since I’d called any place home. And even then the feeling had been a fleeting one––almost, but never quite right. I knew then why…because nothing had ever felt like this, like being close to him. He was the home I’d always longed for.

My fingers dung into his rock solid trapezius muscles, working the stiffness out. The love and doubt dueling inside of him could be felt under my fingertips. He was the last person I wanted to hurt. And yet, I had. Knowing I was the cause of all that stress stung. He hugged me tightly, and I kissed him gently, brushing my lips against his until he surrendered not just his feelings, but his body, too.

A forced cough coming from the doorway sought our attention. Bear stood just inside the room. “Mrs. Redman is here.”

Underneath me, Sebastian’s entire body turned to stone. A second later I was unceremoniously dumped back onto the bed.

“Sebastian––” I pleaded warily.

“Don’t,” he grunted, his alert gaze pinned to the open doorway.

On cue, an enormous bouquet of white peonies and lilies appeared. It obscured her face completely. Only her long legs, balancing unsteadily on four inch, nude colored Louboutin’s, were visible. Her bright blonde head shifted to the side, into view, and with a brittle, forced smile she drawled, “Hello.”

I’m surprised Sebastian’s gaze didn’t pulverize her on the spot.

“Sebastian––” I implored, not in any mood to witness a murder.

But it was in vain. He was lost to everything other than the presence of his fury, the emotion emanating from every fiber of his being. I could have set myself on fire and he wouldn’t have noticed.

Rising out of the chair slowly, he suddenly looked four inches taller, his countenance grim as he walked up to her. Every muscle in my body instinctively braced when he reached her. Without any acknowledgement, he gently took the vase of white flowers out of her hands.

And then…an explosion, the violence of which resonated throughout the room and down the hallway. I jerked in surprise. Diana screamed, her bony fists flying to cover her mouth. What remained of the vase, which had shattered against the wall, now lay scattered all over the floor. I sat there slack-jawed while my gaze climbed from the shards of crystal, broken stems, and petals strewn about, to the two of them.

“I need to apologize to Vera,” Diana feebly insisted, her voice cracking and breaking. Her plea went ignored. He dug his fingers into her flesh and roughly yanked on her arm, maneuvering her out the door. Her wide, frightened eyes met mine for a brief moment before he had her turned around.