"How did they meet?" she asked, curious.
"Hospital. Pierre was visiting me and wandered into the wrong ward. Alice had been in an accident too, a really bad one from what I understood. She was unconscious, apparently in a coma, and while every other patient in the room had cards and flowers, Alice had nothing. I don't know, I think Pierre felt a little sorry for her, so he checked in on her every day on his way to visit me and soon learned that she had no family and that she had just moved here from Johannesburg, which meant that she'd had no time to befriend anyone yet. He kept visiting her even after my discharge from the hospital. He brought her flowers and talked to her for months until one day she opened her eyes, smiled, and said, ‘It's you.'" Bryce shrugged. "Damned if I know what that meant, but Pierre fell hard and fast. They married a couple of months later, after Alice had convalesced enough to walk down the aisle without aid."
"Oh, what a beautiful story." Bronwyn smiled mistily and Bryce rolled his eyes.
"How like a woman to find it romantic," he scoffed.
"You don't think it's romantic?"
"I think that Pierre just liked feeling needed and enjoyed the idea of having someone almost totally dependent on him. It happens! The love may have come later but initially, in my opinion, that's all it was. Men tend to like it when women arouse our protective instincts; it makes us feel heroic."
"You sound like you're speaking from experience," she couldn't stop herself from pointing out, and he sneered.
"Why the hell do you think I kept coming back to you?" She had known it was coming, but she had been unable to prevent herself from rushing into those deep, dark waters. "You made me feel like an all-conquering hero. You kept staring at me with those doe eyes, and I felt like I could take on the world. It's a heady thing, being elevated to near-godlike status like that. I should never have let things go so far. You were a naïve little thing and I took everything you offered, but when we had sex and I learned that you were a virgin, I had no option but to do the right thing, didn't I? Especially since we were so stupid and careless that first time. Even though I wasn't keen on the idea of kids, I didn't want any child of mine growing up without my name."
"What are you trying to say?" She asked softly, glad for once that he could not hear the emotion in her voice but unable to hide the tears sparkling in her eyes. "That our marriage was based on a lie?"
"No lie." He shrugged. "Well, okay, maybe a lie by omission. I never told you why I was proposing."
"I thought . . ." that you loved me. She couldn't bring herself to say the words, and her voice faded into nothing.
"I know what you thought, but I felt it was best to allow you to continue believing in your happily-ever-after fairy tale." There was absolutely nothing she could say in response to that, and she stared at him through her misty eyes. He broke eye contact first and raised his glass to his lips, taking a hearty slurp from it. For a second she was almost certain his hand was trembling, but he quickly lowered it and raised his gaze to meet hers once again. There was nothing but disdain in that stare, and she knew that she had imagined the slight trace of vulnerability. "Would you like to meet Alice? I'm sure the two of you will get along."
Surprised by the sudden change in subject and the unexpected gentleness in his voice, she nodded helplessly. She had lost contact with all of the friends she had made at university. She had tried contacting a few of them since her return. Of course, most of them had moved on to their postgraduate studies, a few had left the city to continue their studies elsewhere, but the ones who had remained had shown no real desire to resume their friendships with her. If she could befriend Pierre's wife, it would go a long way toward staving off the crushing loneliness she was starting to feel in this house.
"I'd like that." She lowered her eyes to her plate, lifting her knife and fork in an attempt to pretend that nothing was amiss, but the violent trembling in her hands made a liar of her, and she had no choice but to put the utensils back down. She really should not be this devastated by the knowledge that everything she had initially believed about her marriage was a lie. Like her belief that Bryce had married her because he loved her when he had never loved her. His revelations should hold no surprise, not after the way he'd treated her two years ago. Still his words had hurt so much more than they should have; it felt like she had been punched in the stomach, and the pain was unrelenting.
"I'll invite them to dinner tomorrow night. Pierre and I have business to discuss anyway," he said softly, and she nodded, lowering her head even more, petrified that he would see her tears. She stared blurrily down at her plate but was barely able to see its contents. To her absolute horror she felt the scalding tears overflowing and watched as they dripped into her plate. With an agonized sound, she hurriedly got to her feet, scrubbing at her face in the process.
"I . . . excuse . . ." She caught a brief look at his grim face, and unable to stand it anymore, she fled, hearing his muffled curse on her way out. There was a horrible silence, followed by an equally horrible crash as Bryce apparently flung something against a wall. The sound of breaking glass spurred her on and she was up the stairs and into her room like a shot. Thankfully the violent noise had not awoken Kayla, and Bronwyn curled up into a small ball in the center of her bed, leaving the lights off, needing the dark to lick her gaping wounds in private.
She had awakened in his arms. Bronwyn smiled in contentment and snuggled closer. His strong arms tightened around her and he kissed the top of her head almost reverently. They had been seeing each other for only a month but the chemistry between them had been so potent that it had not taken much for Bronwyn to forget all her grandmother's warnings about men and their "salacious appetites." In fact she thought she had been particularly strong in not giving in much sooner; Bryce was a very persuasive kisser, and tonight it hadn't taken much for them to fall into bed together. It had been her first time, and Bryce had been a little shocked at the discovery. He had been excruciatingly gentle and incredibly thorough in making sure that she was completely satisfied. He hadn't left an inch of her body unexplored. Now she was limp, sated, and wondering when they would be able to do it again. She moved her thigh experimentally but still found him disappointingly unprepared for a second round.
"Give me a second," he groaned. "You wore me out, damn it. I need to regain my strength!"
"You just can't keep up with me, can you?" She purred teasingly and he growled before flipping her onto her back, pinning her down, and kissing her thoroughly. She felt him stir against her and grinned against his lips.
"Now that's more like it," she murmured encouragingly, and he grinned, lifting his head to look down at her. The grin faded abruptly and his eyes went silver with desire and something deeper, something so achingly tender it made Bronwyn's heart melt.
"I can't remember my life before you," he said wonderingly. "I can't remember me without you. I never want to let you go. Tell me you'll marry me . . . please?"
"Bryce?" she whispered uncertainly.
"Bronwyn Kirkland, will you marry me?" he asked almost desperately. She was so overwhelmed by his words that she could do nothing but nod.
"Yes, yes, Bryce, I love you so much," she managed to whisper, her voice thick with tears of joy.
"Shhh . . . don't cry . . ." he soothed as he slid gently into her welcoming body. "No more tears. We're going to be so happy together."
She awoke in his arms, feeling both warm and protected. Bronwyn felt a dizzying sense of déjà vu as she struggled to find her bearings. She couldn't believe that she had fallen asleep after the emotional turmoil at dinner-she had been so certain that her tumultuous thoughts would keep her awake. She had her face pressed to his chest and she could feel his heart beating steadily beneath her cheek.
"Bryce?" she whispered tentatively, not sure where her dreams ended and real life began. Maybe she was just now waking up after their first time together and everything in between had been nothing but a vivid dream. He didn't stir and she moved restlessly against him, feeling his arms tighten possessively around her. His large hands started stroking her back leisurely and she burrowed closer, reveling in the comfort and not quite ready to relinquish it yet. She still wasn't certain if this was a dream or real, but she didn't care anymore; she was in Bryce's arms exactly where she belonged.
His warm hands crept beneath the thin cotton blouse she was wearing until his dry palms found the soft, naked skin of her slender back. She sucked in a breath at the electrifying contact and arched toward him with a slight moan. It felt like forever since he had touched her last. Her hands crept up over his broad chest, feeling the heat of his skin through the thin material of his T-shirt. She looked up, trying to see his face in the dark, but she could see nothing except the gleam of his eyes.