Sienna grunted. “You think? I know that now, don’t I? Back then…”
Clueless. So utterly clueless.
Worry swam in Carrie’s eyes. “What happened? Did he…did he try to…”
“No. Not then. He just drew a picture and it was beautiful. Everything was fine, and then, the day after you left for Europe, his father contacted him and demanded he come home, to forget this ‘arty-farty bullshit,’ and join his brother at DMC.” She paused and chewed on her thumbnail some more. God, why did she feel so sick?
“What did you do?”
“I told Clint to do what his heart wanted.” She looked at Carrie. God, she needed her to understand how things had gotten to this point. Maybe then she’d understand it herself. “I know from personal experience how life can be with famous parents. Restricting. Confining. I’d made the break, and it was liberating.” She shook her head. “I don’t think it was so easy for Clinton. He seemed lost, so against his father’s wealth and power. But Harvey Dyson is, well, he’s Harvey Dyson. How do you stand up against a man like that? He never told me what was said between them, but he didn’t move out, either, so I assumed they’d worked it out. And then these jokes about eloping to Hawaii started and he became possessive. Not enough to be scary, just enough for me to wonder what was going on.” Sienna dragged her fingers through her hair and dropped back into the armchair she’d only moments ago left. “We used to have so much fun together.”
Carrie studied her. Was this what it was like being on the end of Carrie’s photographer’s focus? “What happened?”
“He proposed. Out of the blue, three weeks after his exhibition. He cooked dinner one night and popped the question. Offered me the drawing he’d done of me as an engagement present.”
“Oh, Sienna.” Carrie slumped in her chair. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Pushing herself from the chair once more, Sienna crossed to one of the large windows that filled her studio with natural light. “It was so weird. Like a different person suddenly took over his body. When I told him we were just friends, had only ever been just friends, he snapped. Ranted about how he’d given up his life for me, given up the family fortune so he could be with me. Told me no one said no to a Dyson.” She turned to Carrie. “It was scary. He was scary. We’d never even kissed. Not once. And he was talking marriage.”
Sienna turned back to the window. “He tried to kiss me. I mean, he really tried. It got…it got a bit scary for a while, but I kneed him in the crotch, and he got off me.”
Carrie gaped at her. “Got off you? Are you kidding? Are you freaking kidding?”
Sienna waved her hand. Holy crap, she’d never wanted to think about this again. Wouldn’t have, until James turned up.
When she saw him again, she was going to…
When I see him again? What am I thinking?
“Clint told me he loved me.” Her chest tightened at the memory. “He begged me to marry him, to love him. When I said no, he left.”
There was so much more, so many other things he’d said—slut, prick-tease, gold digger, whore—but she couldn’t bring herself to tell Carrie. Even now, six months later, she felt dirty.
“What happened?”
A lump filled Sienna’s throat, a painful lump that made it difficult for her to breathe. She blinked at the hot sting of tears in her eyes. “After he left, he went to his brother’s house and overdosed on sleeping pills. James refused to let me enter the church at his funeral, blaming me for Clint’s death.”
“What?” Carrie’s stunned response was barely a whisper. “He what? Sienna, why didn’t you tell me?”
Sienna shrugged. It was such a glorious day outside. What would she give to be out enjoying it, instead of being in here now, recounting a moment in her life she wanted more than anything to forget? “You were still in Europe, I didn’t want to spoil anything for you and Richard, and then Dad was arrested and life got way too odd.”
“But you should have said something. No wonder you never date now. God, and to think I’ve been trying to set you up over and over. You must hate me. I’m so sorry.”