Just listening to Bree talk on the phone made it obvious to Dylan that she had been cooking up something big, that she was probably thinking her surprise visit would be a good time to tell him she was in love with him, had known that she was hoping he’d say ‘I love you’ back.
And because he had known all of those, he had gotten himself drunk and then made sure that she would catch him with Henrietta.
Only it had gone too far, Dylan thought sickly as he gazed at Bree’s face, flinching at the way she was trying so hard not to cry again.
He had wanted her to see him with Henrietta but NOT like that. Goddammit, not like that!
A limousine slowed down in front of them. Its chauffeur came out and opened the door for her. When Bree moved around him to get in, he panicked. He knew if he didn’t do something now, it would be over.
“Bree, babe, please.” His voice came out hoarse.
She had her back to him now, but she froze at the words.
“Don’t...don’t be like this.”
Bree’s shoulders started to shake. Oh God, how could he even say that after what she had seen? Did he even know...oh God, there didn’t seem to be any way to describe how much it killed her, seeing another girl able to make Dylan look like that.
“Babe—-”
She let him turn her around, already crying. “You’re an ass.”
“No, babe.” Dylan dragged her into his arms, tightening his hold around her. “I’m not. I’m a rock star and you’ve got to remember that.”
“But I—-”
He cut her off, knowing he had to. Kissing her hair, he whispered, “You are special to me, Bree. Always will be. But you need to understand that I’m the kind of rock star that belongs to the world and not just one girl.”
Chapter Seven
No words were needed as they stared at each other. He knew and she knew both of them had been thinking about the past, and the memories didn’t leave either of them unscathed.
Dylan shot to his feet, waiting tensely for Bree to speak – to scream, to break up with him. She looked beautiful, poignantly so. He wanted to reach out to her and make sure she was real. He wanted to taste her and see if what he remembered hadn’t been a dream.
The guarded look on Dylan’s drawn face tempted Bree to be hysterical. Crazy, stupid man, she thought wildly. It was so very clear to see he wasn’t happy about what he had done. But he had done it anyway because – in a roundabout way – he was protecting both of them.
He didn’t want her to completely fall in love with a man whose family history included schizophrenia and obsession, and he didn’t want to risk loving her so much he could end up hurting her just as much.
Looking at him, she supposed she should be thankful that at least this time he was fully dressed. She stretched her hand out, surprising Dylan. She asked softly, “Did you really think you could push me away so easily?”
His blue eyes widened, and Dylan wondered if he was hallucinating when he heard her next words.
“Come with me now, Dyl. It didn’t work. Just accept that and let’s leave this place.”
She looked determined and passionate. Passionate, he realized with shock, about keeping him as hers. It blew him away, and all he could think about was how hot she was this way, how much he loved her more when she was like this. She almost made him believe that all of his fears were for nothing and that Bree would be tough for both of them – tough enough to defeat science and genetics and prevent him from being schizophrenic or obsessive by the sheer strength of her love.
“Dylan?”
He was about to say yes, he was damn well going back to her, when a movement from the other doorway caught his eye. It was Henrietta, and they all froze at her entrance. She was dressed in a near-transparent peignoir, her hair in wild disarray.
Dylan’s eyes immediately flew back to Bree. If she believed he had cheated on her – again – with Henrietta, he didn’t think he would ever—-
Henrietta’s smile was pure poison. “Oh dear. You caught us again.”
Bree returned the smile with one of her own. “Oh dear. You wish.”
It was not like Bree at all to be a bitch, making Dylan bark in surprised laughter. Henrietta’s furious gaze shot towards him but he ignored it, his heart bursting with pride at the way the younger Bree was handling all this.
The way Dylan was staring at her made Bree swallow hard. God, but he was so moody! And dear oh dear, but why did she find that so hot about him?
One moment he was drowning in all his issues, using Henrietta as a barrier between them, but in the next second he was looking at Bree like she was the only person that could give him pleasure.