Her brow indented. ‘We should have talked again more calmly back then.’
‘There were issues I wasn’t prepared to discuss with you,’ Nik vented grittily. ‘I’m useless at discussing emotional stuff. If I don’t even know quite how I feel, how am I supposed to know what anyone else is feeling?’
Frustration and bitterness roughened his dark deep drawl and she turned her head away, dropping her eyes, wondering what he was talking about but reluctant to put pressure on him after the upsetting evening they had had. ‘Have you made up with Cristo?’ she asked baldly.
‘Were... Are you attracted to him?’ Nik asked abruptly, his eyes light and bright in the dimness of the car interior. ‘Most women would prefer him to me. I’m darker, rougher round the edges, a lot less smooth.’
Betsy swallowed hard, astonished that Nik could still seem so insecure and marvelling that he was still shaken up by Belle’s revelation to continue feeling suspicious. ‘All I can tell you is that I met the two of you together the same day at the bistro and I never really noticed him. I mean, I realised that there was a guy with you and I eventually worked out that you were brothers, but Cristo might as well not have been there for all the interest he inspired in me,’ she confided quietly. ‘It was you I noticed, you I couldn’t take my eyes off—’
‘And...later?’ Nik pressed, closing a lean brown hand round hers where she had braced it on the leather seat. ‘How did you feel later after our marriage broke down?’
‘That he was my only friend, for listening and not judging. For being there when I needed a shoulder. He was very good to me—’
‘He said I was a rotten husband, that I didn’t treat you properly and that he felt sorry for you,’ Nik breathed harshly. ‘Is it true? Did I treat you badly?’
‘You just travelled a lot and you were very...detached. You never explained anything. But aside of the vasectomy you kept quiet about, I wouldn’t have termed you a rotten husband,’ Betsy said truthfully. ‘I was happy with you most of the time—’
‘But it should have been all of the time,’ Nik fielded grimly. ‘I let you down. But with the exception of your desire for a child, I really thought I was doing OK in the husband category. Unfortunately I’m not perfect, in fact I’m seriously flawed and I’ve done as much as I can to remedy that. But then you’re not quite perfect either. When I realised that you suffered from dyslexia I felt so comfortable with you. At first it was a wildfire physical attraction I felt for you, but once I got to know you and realised that you had restrictions as well, you seemed so perfect for me...’
The limousine drew up outside the hall and for a split second Betsy simply sat there, fixedly staring at Nik. You had restrictions as well was still ringing in her ears with the last two words ringing the loudest. ‘When you said you were seriously flawed, what did you mean...?’
The passenger door whipped open and crisp, cool night air flooded in. Nik retained her hand and tugged her out of the car to guide her up the steps. ‘I owe you the truth,’ he intoned with a bitterness he couldn’t hide. ‘But it’s a truth I would never have chosen to share with you.’
A chill of foreboding was sliding down Betsy’s taut spinal cord and rousing goosebumps on her exposed skin. She searched his bold bronzed profile, only to be taken aback by the harsh lines of tension underscoring his spectacularly strong bone structure. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she whispered apologetically.
Nik thrust open the drawing room door and went to pour them both a drink. In silence he extended a pure orange to her and she grasped the moisture-beaded glass of juice tightly, unable to take her attention off him.