She jumped, turning to face him. Her eyes were wide, her cheeks pale. “Oh. It’s you.”
“Who were you expecting?”
She tried to smile, but her expression looked all wrong. “A handsome prince.”
He wondered if she’d seen that little weasel Greg Hudson, in spite of his effort to get the man out of the ballroom quickly. “Did someone…bother you?”
“Bother me?” She tossed her head with forced bravado. “You know I can take care of myself.”
“Tell me what’s wrong,” he said quietly.
She took a deep breath, then lifted stricken eyes to his. “You just…ran away so fast from me on the dance floor, I thought you’d be halfway to Berlin by now.”
Ah. He suddenly knew why she was upset. “Um. Right.” The collar of his shirt felt tight. “Sorry I left like that. I was…thirsty.” That sounded ridiculous. He pushed a champagne flute into her hand. “I got you something to drink.”
Vladimir waited for her forehead to crease in disbelief, for her to demand why he’d really run off the instant she’d told him she loved him. For her to challenge and goad him into telling her the truth.
But she didn’t. Her fingers closed around the stem of the crystal flute, but her thoughts seemed a million miles away.
“Hey.” He touched her cheek lightly, and she lifted startled eyes. “Are you angry with me?”
Her lips parted, then she shook her head.
“No,” she whispered. “Why would I be?”
Putting the flute to her lips, she tilted back her head and gulped down the expensive champagne like water.
For a long, awkward moment, Vladimir just stood there, pretending nothing was wrong. They didn’t speak or touch or even look at each other as, all around them, people drunkenly, joyously celebrated the New Year. Finally, Vladimir could bear it no longer.
“I don’t blame you for being angry.” Taking the empty glass from her hand, he deposited it on the tray of a passing waiter, along with his own untouched champagne. He took her hand in his. “But Bree,” he said slowly. “You have to know how I feel….”
With a sudden intake of breath, she looked up, her hazel eyes luminous. “It’s my sister. She needs my help.”
Her sister? He’d been raking himself over the coals, hating himself for hurting her, and all this time she’d been thinking about that hapless sister of hers?
He exhaled. “You need to stop worrying about her. My men will soon track her down. In the meantime, she’s a full-grown woman. Treating her like a child, following her around to fix her slightest problem, you’ll make her believe she’s useless and incompetent. And she will be.”
“But what if, this time, she really needs my help?” Bree’s beautiful face grew paler. She searched his gaze with an intensity he didn’t understand. “What if she’s done something—something that might destroy her life forever—and I’m the only one who can save her?”
Irritated, he set his jaw. “Like you saved her from the hundred thousand dollars she lost at the poker game? When you risked yourself, offering your body to strangers, to save her from the consequences of her actions?”
Her voice was very small. “Yes.”
Narrowing his eyes, Vladimir shook his head. “If she didn’t learn from that, she never will.”
“But—”
“There is no but,” he said harshly. “She is twenty-two years old. She must learn to make her own choices, and live with them.”
Bree’s shoulders were rigid. She fell silent, turning away as she wiped her eyes. On the dance floor, people were still swaying to the music, toasting the New Year with champagne and kisses. But somehow, he wasn’t quite sure how, the mood between him and Bree had utterly changed. And not for the better.
“I’m sorry,” she said in a low voice, not looking at him. “I can’t just abandon the people I love the instant they make a mistake. I’m not you,” she said tightly.
Feeling the sting she no doubt intended, he said in a low voice, “My brother made his own choice to get out of the company.”
“Because you made him feel worthless for a single mistake. When all he did was tell you the truth about yours.”
“Falling in love with a woman who was deceiving me,” he said, watching her.