Meant-To-Be Marriage

“It’s obvious you still don’t know me well or you’d understand I would dare anything where you’re concerned.”

“Oh, I understand that all right—” She bristled with anger. “I found it out when those flowers came. Talk about illumination— But the gesture wasn’t necessary.”

His breathing had grown ragged. “I thought every woman loved roses.”

“Roses—” she almost shouted at him. “You sent me lilies!”

He stared her down. “No. I sent you a dozen long stemmed hot-pink roses like the kind you threw in the surf. I wanted you to understand that you’ll never get rid of me.”

She spread her hands in a nervous gesture. “You honestly sent me roses?”

“All you have to do is call the florist and have them repeat back my order.”

“But your note was with the lilies.”

“Then that’s their problem.”

Oh, no.

She couldn’t swallow very well. “I—I guess there was a mixup and someone else received your gift. Jarod, I—I don’t know what to say.”

“I don’t want you to say anything,” he ground out. “I want you to get in your car, or shall I pick you up and take you to your apartment in mine?”

Regardless of the audience passing by, he’d do it without a qualm and there weren’t any rangers to protect her.

“No,” she answered unsteadily. “I’ll meet you there.”

His eyes had turned so dark, no one would guess at their brilliant green color. While he watched her every move, she got back in the Jeep, but she was shaking so hard, she had difficulty putting it in gear.

Now that the understanding about the flowers had been cleared up, why was he so upset when she was the one dying inside? Didn’t he know how much he’d hurt her by not phoning her from Bismarck in the first place?

The drive home passed in a blur of agony. He stayed right behind her. Every time she glanced in the rearview mirror, her eyes met the fiery accusation in his.

Surely he understood how difficult it had been for her knowing the bishop had sent for him under such mysterious circumstances just days before their wedding was supposed to take place.

Forcing air into her lungs, she pulled into her parking stall and jumped out of the car. Jarod closed in on her before she put her key in the lock of the apartment door.

Once inside, he closed and locked it, then folded his arms across his chest as if he needed to do something with his negative energy.

This was a side of Jarod totally foreign to her.

“Just tell me one thing, Sydney.” He almost hissed the words. “Why were you really running away from me? The truth!”

She tried to look everywhere except at him. “Because I didn’t want to hear what you had to say.”

He took a shuddering breath. “Even if the flowers were the wrong ones, I sent you a note that should have been self-explanatory. What in heaven’s name went on in your mind to frighten you to the point you wouldn’t answer my phone calls?

“If you’d listened to either of my messages, you would have known I was coming straight to your apartment from the airport.”

Sydney wrung her hands. “You don’t understand.”

“Make me,” he demanded, taking a step closer to her until she could scarcely breathe.

“When I didn’t hear from you last night or this morning, I began to imagine all kinds of things.”

“Go on.”

She couldn’t breathe. “Jarod—”