Claimed by the Sicilian Tycoon(59)
“Oh careful, Andros,” she taunted. “One might say your jealousy is starting to show again.”
“Jealousy?” he demanded. “When have I ever been jealous?”
“Oh, let me see. The first time you took me to dinner?”
“I was not.”
“The incident with Mitch? You’re mine, Lyra, You belong to me.”
“Because you do!” he stated, and realized just how true that was. Lyra might be walking out the door, but he resolved there and then that it would not be long before he had her back in it. If she needed a few more months to stew, a few more months to miss him, then that was what she would have.
“I belong to no one.”
The plan now firm in his mind, Andros stepped away from the door. “Tell yourself that as often as you want, Rossa. I can bet that when you close your eyes at night you think of me. When you wake up in the morning how long until I enter your thoughts? You are the one who doesn’t get it. We’re imprinted on each other. This crazy relationship of ours has changed us both.”
“Not enough.”
“Clearly not enough for you to come to your senses yet. You need time. I will give it to you.”
“I don’t need any time. I’m leaving.”
“Then leave,” he said, gesturing to the door. “But know this, we’re far from through, Lyra. Say what you fucking like.”
She glared. “What happened in the car will never happen again.”
He shrugged. “Of course it will. It is only a matter of time.”
“We’re done. Stay away from me. Do not come near me again.”
“Do not be so dramatic,” he said.
“I mean it. Jesus Christ, Andros, I mean it,” she screeched. “Listen to the fucking words.”
“Lyra…” He paused, narrowed his eyes, and moved forward. Her hands were clenched tight, her face flushed, and it seemed almost like… “Are you…are you crying?” he whispered.
She dashed a hand across her eyes. “Of course I’m not crying! I don’t cry.”
“Lyra—”
“You’re no good for me,” she spluttered. “You were never any good for me and I should have known that right at the start. These fucking missions were all a complete screw up in the end.”
“Missions?” he asked, jumping on the oddness of the word. “What do you mean?”
“You don’t even get that,” she cried. “You don’t get any of it. Why did I think you would? How could I ever have been so stupid?”
“I get that we fit,” he said carefully, the sight of her tears making everything turn on its head. Leave her to stew, make her ache? How could he think that way when the woman who meant so much to him was falling apart in front of his eyes? What was fucking wrong with him?
How could he fix it all?
“Fit?” She laughed, the sound harsh. “We are so far from fitting. We’re…we’re just wrong. This,” She waved a hand between them. “It’s just sex. Sex and more sex and it is no good.”#p#分页标题#e#
“It has always been good. It works,” he insisted.
“But nothing else does. I can’t be your plaything anymore, Andros. I can’t.”
“You want more. I will give you more,” he said. “If that is what you need I will give you more.”
Another dash of her hand across her face, her lips quivering. Andros wanted to step forward and pull her into his arms, make her feel better. But he had no idea where to even start! No idea what giving more even entailed.
“You know,” she said softly, after a moment. “I don’t think I do want more.”
“But—”
“Let’s just draw a line. Draw it here and now and be done with it.”
Silence fell and held. Andros could practically hear his own heart thumping in his chest. Thumping far too quickly. “Then you want this to be the end?” he asked, the words not fitting right in his mouth. “Truly.”
She nodded. “I do. I have to.”
Then she smoothed down her dress, walked forward, and stood up on her tiptoes. A moment later and a light kiss was placed on his lips. The pressure was negligible, almost nonexistent, and yet Andros felt like it was the hardest kiss she had ever given him. His stomach knotted, his chest thumped, and he felt like something heavy had settled on him.
How had it gone wrong so quickly?
Why wasn’t it working out like he assumed?
How was he supposed to fix it?
“Don’t do this, Lyra,” he said. “Don’t.”
But she shook her head, and those tears that she insisted were not tears, sparkled on her eyelids. “No choice,” she whispered. “No choice. Not anymore. You take care of yourself, Andros. Be happy.”