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“Why did you go out tonight?”
He frowned. The answer to that was too complicated. Even half-inebriated, he knew that to respond to her question would give away something vital he wanted to keep locked inside.
“Why not?”
“I see.” Her lips twitched into a small smile, and she lifted her finger, tracing the cleft in his chin. “So meeting my mom didn’t drive you to drink?”
It was too close to the truth to smile. “She said you loved me.”
Damn it. He hadn’t intended to reveal that, and the second Abby’s face paled, he wished he hadn’t. Too much scotch for sense; that was the problem.
“Oh. Did she?”
“She said I destroyed you.”
Abby’s eyes flickered closed. A small gesture, but more than enough to convince him that Winona had been right.
“Do I look destroyed to you?”
It was a valiant attempt to obfuscate, but it didn’t work. Even after drinking half a bottle of Macallan, he could see that. He searched for something to say. Something eloquent andright—and drew a blank.
He wished he could believe her. But the past was all around them, the evidence of how monumentally he’d stuffed up – from the moment of meeting Abby all the way through to this one – shifting through him.
“Abby,” he said her name on a sigh, wrenched from his body. “What are we doing?”
She was very still, not answering him, not questioning what he meant.
“We shouldn’t do this now.” The words were soft, wise, but he shook his head.
“Tell me the truth. Were you in love with me?”
Her lips pressed together and then, she was pulling away from him, standing, magnificently naked, looking around for her clothes with eyes that were frantic and rushed.
“Abby?”
She pulled her underpants up, and his eyes followed the gesture – even then, she was so stunningly graceful.
“There’s no point having this conversation.”
“Why not?” His voice sounded so desperate and urgent. He cleared his throat, took in a deep breath, tried to calm down. But everything was speeding up, the world was spinning too fast, and he needed, more than anything, to work out how to slow it down, but he couldn’t. In Iraq, he’d often felt powerless, but it was nothing compared to this. Some vital part of his life was out of control.
“Because it was two damned years ago, that’s why not.” She spread her arms wide, palms up, eyes beseeching. “If you wanted to know how I felt then, you should have asked me then.”
“I didn’t want to hear it two years ago.”
“But you do now?”
No. Idiot. Dig your head in the sand some more. It’s easier that way.“Yes. I need to know.”
She angled her face away from him, so beautiful, so fragile, so strong. Her breasts jutted with each breath she took, two perfect shapes delineated against the night sky.
“Of course I loved you.” She said it slowly, angrily, the words laced with resentment, and when she turned to face him it was with eyes that were laced with cold rejection. “How could Inotlove you? I’d never known anyone like you. I was bewitched, entranced, fascinated. Totally swept away by you.”
“You were running from a failed relationship,” he clung to that notion.
“No. I was waking up from the idea I’d ever had a relationship before you. I was stepping into a new reality that redefined every parameter of my life. I was falling in love every day we spent together, every night. It was like –,” She paused, searching for words.
“Go on.” Rough, primal, raw.
