His Mistress with Two Secrets(45)

“I enjoyed having you with me in New York. That’s all I was saying when I gave this to you,” he said, shaking the little snake of gold.

“Don’t,” she muttered, worried he would kink a link. She stole it from him and closed it in her fist against her heart.

“What do you care what happens to it? This is a pile of junk, isn’t it?” He gave a solid platinum arm cuff a disdainful bat with his fingertips. “It’s not like each one represents a special memory between us. It’s not like I spent any time choosing these things specifically for you. You’re right. They’re meaningless and I should have thrown the works in the garbage when they came back. I’ll do that now.”

“Don’t you dare!” she cried, knocking his hands away from sweeping everything back into the envelope. “You made me feel lousy, acting like you didn’t give a damn that I was leaving, so I tried to do the same to you. All right?”

She pushed herself between him and the trove of emeralds and diamonds, gold and platinum.

“Message received. Our two years together weren’t even worth remembering. When that came back, I wanted to—” In her periphery, she saw his fists clench, but his jaw pulsed. His brow flinched. “We had more than sex.” His voice was raw, the words bit out between clenched teeth.

Funny thing about trying to hurt someone you cared about. It wasn’t nearly as satisfying as you thought it would be.

She dared a glance up into his face, fearing she’d see anger or resentment. There was only regret. Apology, even.

“Is that why you’re refusing to marry me? We’re good together, Cinnia. Not just there.” He pointed at the bed where she had tossed and turned. “Everywhere.”

She waited, but he didn’t profess undying love.

She looked away, blinking at the sting in her eyes. It wasn’t so much disappointment as a feeling of inevitability. What would it even prove if he did say the words? She wouldn’t believe him.

A painful jolt went through her, realization striking like a hard pulse of electricity, making her catch her breath. She hadn’t just been testing him when she’d left. She’d been driving him away, afraid to want his love. Proving to herself she didn’t need it.

She was still holding him off to protect herself.

“I care about you. Ça va?” He ground out the words like he begrudged even giving her that much.

“No,” she said, voice strained, facing something she had barely peered into that day in January. She threw back her head, ignoring the dampness on her lashes as she stared into his wary expression. “It’s not okay. Because even if you’d said the words that day...”

Her voice thinned and her throat strained to swallow.

“I’ve heard them before and it didn’t matter. I still wound up hurt and on my own. So yes, I knew deep down that you meant these as signs of affection...” She waved at the jewelry. “But I expected to be left to fend for myself eventually. And was.”

“That won’t happen again,” he vowed fiercely. “It’s different.”

“Is it? I won’t take any chances, will I?”

He started to argue further, but they both heard the door chime.

He swore. “That’s Ramon.”

“I’ll be out in a moment,” she promised and turned away to fix her makeup.

* * *

Henri ruminated as he watched his brother greet Cinnia. Ramon genuinely liked her, probably because she expected even less from him than she had ever demanded of Henri.

Henri disguised a wince, thinking of what she’d said moments ago. He supposed he should be relieved that she’d essentially told him she didn’t want his declaration of love, since she wouldn’t believe him anyway, but it was as much a slap in the face as her return of his jewelry.

He couldn’t believe she had so little faith in him.

She was pale and Henri imagined that if his brother noticed, he put it down to her delicate condition.

Ramon, however, being an inveterate flirt, still went out of his way to charm her.

In a moment of shaken confidence, Henri watched closely for her reaction. Cinnia tended to respond with smiles of amused tolerance when his brother turned on the charisma, occasionally flattered, but never swayed, never tempted.

He’d seen it the first day they met, of course, but her preference for him hadn’t been fully cemented in his mind until the first time he’d taken her to watch his brother race in Nürburg. It had been a good trip, the first one where he introduced her to perhaps not the family’s inner circle, but people in their regular social circle. She had fit in well. They had all enjoyed the race day and danced the night away afterward.