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“What’s keeping you from accepting my proposal?” he asks carefully.
I cross one leg over the other, then uncross them. “Umm... Felix.” I don’t need to say anything else, for his jaw tightens.
He wipes all expression off his face. “You’re right to be concerned about him. I am, too... but?—”
“But?” I ask through my suddenly dry lips.
“It doesn’t change the fact that he didn’t want to marry you.”
That’s true.
"You’re a single woman, am I right?”
I nod.
“And you can choose who you want to marry?”
I nod again, slowly.
“And I won’t give up until you agree to marry me”—he looks between my eyes—"which you will.”
I can’t stop the surprised laugh that wells up. “That’s awfully confident of you.”
He curls his lips. That’s his response. That wicked smirk. And damn, but his arrogance turns my stomach inside out. Butterflies fan their wings through my blood. The tension between us stretches. The air grows thick and presses down on my shoulders. My nipples harden.
This man is lethal. Any minute now, I’m going to climb him like a tree and cling to him like I’m a koala bear. I glance away and rack my mind to say something to break the growing silence.
“You were saying—” I clear my throat. “You were saying, you brought him up on your own?”
His features tighten. Guess leading the conversation back to Felix wasn’t the best diversion? But he’s Quentin’s son, and I do want to know more about their relationship.
His chest rises and falls, then he smooths out his forehead. "It was my aunt who brought him up.” He shifts his weight on the bar stool. “I was busy setting off on yet another tour of duty, or so I told myself. I made sure I wasn’t emotionally available for my son. I wasn’t ready to be a father and deal with the emotions it triggered inside me. I never did bond with Felix.”
His jaw hardens. “I made sure he never lacked for anything material, but emotionally, I was absent. Didn’t help that I suspected his mother'd had an affair while I was away on tour, either.”
A pulse throbs at his temple.
“It’s one of the reasons I stayed away from her and, consequently, my son, for long periods of time. It never felt like I had a home to come back to. My team became my family, and being on tour became my reality. Fighting a known enemy seemed more manageable than fighting the unseen devils haunting my family life.”
Oh, wow. That’s quite a lot to take in. Definitely hadn’t expected him to reveal so much. My heart goes out to him. After my mother died, I was thrust into the role of caregiver for my sister, and later, my father. It wasn’t a responsibility I bore happily. While I didn’t turn away from it, I withdrew into myself. I didn’t socialize as much. Instead, I read a lot, discovering my love for poetry and later, painting.
We’ve both had to find ways to cope with emotional turmoil. He, with the loss of his family life. And me, with the loss of my youth and friendships when I had to step into my mother’s shoes. Perhaps we're not that different?
A soft sensation squeezes my insides. I realize I feel sorry for him. Not what I expected to feel for this larger-than-life alpha male.
For a few seconds, we stare at each other again. Then, as if aware of what he’s revealed, Quentin rolls his shoulders. “You seem surprised that I shared that with you, but if we’re getting married?—”
“That’s a big if,” I remind him.
“—it’s best for me to be open so you can understand me better.”
Is he that serious about marrying me? Does he intend to go through what I was sure was a moment of madness that made him propose to me without knowing who I was?
If he senses my confusion, he doesn’t show that. Maybe, that’s what he intended all along. To throw me off balance?
He nods at my plate. "Eat," he says in that voice that insists I obey.
On cue, my stomach grumbles. It’s been more than twenty-four hours since I ate. And I do want to eat, but a part of me can’t help but wonder what he’d do if I refused? What would happen if I challenged him, hmm?
