But his passion had been too forceful, too aggressive, too powerful. And he’d ended up hurting her. So what was his defense? He had nothing.
“Look,” he said as he turned back to his friends. Ones he would miss when he moved back to London. “I regret certain things about this evening.” Making love to Shana was not one of those things. He’d enjoyed it too much to possibly ever regret the actual act and the pleasure they’d both derived from it. “But I can’t explain them to you. It’s not anything you’d understand.”
“She specifically said,” Yvette told him, “that she had the most wonderful night of her life. ‘The most beautiful experience’ were her exact words. And then you seemed to snap out of whatever euphoric haze you’d been in, took one look at her and suddenly decided you didn’t want her anymore. Seriously, Drake! How could you be so callous?”
He stared at her a moment, her words hitting all new chords—and they weren’t lyrical ones. His usually quick mind slowly processed what she was saying to him and he was certain he stared dumbfounded at her.
Finally, he said, “She left because she thought I didn’t want her anymore?”
Yvette’s eyes narrowed on him. “She said you gave her a disgusted look when you saw her naked.”
“Oh bloody hell.” He slammed his glass down on the desk, surprisingly not breaking it, which was what he’d thought he’d do if he continued to grip it so tightly. He considered what his reaction had been when he’d glanced down and seen the bruises on Shana’s body—caused by him. He’d been admiring her body one moment and kicking himself in the ass the next. And that latter expression was the one she’d seen.
“Son of a bitch.” He let out a low growl. “She completely misunderstood. It wasn’t her. It wasn’t what she thought. Fuck!” He knew how self-conscious she was of her body. How difficult it had been to let go of her inhibitions, to let him undress her. She was self-conscious and what she’d seen when he’d been so disgruntled over having hurt her physically was not a look of disgust directed toward her. But that’s how she’d taken it.
“Great,” he muttered. “That’s just fucking great.” Not only had he injured her body, he’d damaged her pride.
“Umm, what exactly happened tonight?” Yvette asked, suddenly looking contrite. “Because I’m getting the impression it’s not what I thought.”
Finn rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m guessing this is a case of jumping the gun.”
“Hey,” Yvette snapped, “when my friend is devastated and this close to bursting into tears and can’t get away from a man fast enough, that sends up red flags.” To Drake she said, “You hurt her. Somehow you hurt her feelings. I can clearly see by your reaction that it wasn’t intentional, but she doesn’t know that. She was totally destroyed. So much so, it broke my heart.”
Which basically broke his, knowing how much he’d distressed Shana, even though that was something he’d never willingly do.
Giving Yvette an earnest look, he asked, “How do I fix this?”
“Go talk to her.”
He groaned. Picking up his drink again, he took a few sips, hating that the alcohol wouldn’t help to salve the sting. Equally frustrating was the fact that he knew couldn’t go talk to her. Yes, he wanted to. But he was back to acknowledging that he wasn’t the man Shana deserved. He wasn’t a man at all. He was a vampire. It would be detrimental to them both if he didn’t accept that—no matter how she’d made him feel earlier. Regardless of the fact that he’d felt more alive when he was inside her than he’d ever felt before he’d been turned.
To Yvette, he simply said, “She’s better off without me.”
Yvette fumed. Finn took her by the arm and told her, “We should go.”
She didn’t protest. But she did say, “I shouldn’t have slapped or accused you. I hope you can forgive me.”
Drake shook his head. “There’s nothing to forgive. This whole thing is my doing, my fault. I just want you to know that I feel very deeply for Shana. I wouldn’t hurt her on purpose.”
Yvette sighed. “I never should have jumped all over you like this. I just… I know how fragile Shana’s ego is and it’s easy to bruise it.”
The word “bruise” made him cringe. “If I could make it up to her, I would. But I truly believe the best thing I can do for her is…leave her alone.”
“Now, Drake,” Finn said, stepping toward him. “Don’t be so hasty. I spent four years waiting for the right moment, the right reason, the right thing to say to Yvette. And then I realized ten years could pass before I settled on the ‘right’ time.” He gave Yvette a loving look and added, “What a waste that would’ve been.”