“You’re asking me to giveeverythingup,” she interrupted, pushing at his chest again. He stayed where he was, a wall of muscles. “The future we could have, the happiness, the love, the family.” Her voice cracked. “You don’t want that, at least not with me—,”
“Not with anyone,” he interrupted. “I never have. It’s just how I am. I tried to explain—,”
“You did explain. But my heart didn’t listen, Leo.” She dropped her head forward suddenly, so her brow connected with his chest. “I wish I had. I wish I didn’t feel this way.”
“I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“I know. You wanted to protect me.”
“Yes. And instead—,”
“You saved me,” she whispered.
“But at what cost?” He asked, the words dragged from deep inside of his chest, his eyes locking to hers, haunted and aching, and then, with a growl ripped from the center of his being, he kissed her, seeking her lips as if by touching her, by possessing her, he could put an end to all of this. There was such perfection in the way their bodies sparked off one another, it was a perfectionism he sought, a small piece of satisfaction in the midst of a sea of uncertainty.
“Don’t go yet,” he ground against her mouth, as their bodies pulled together and lowered to the grass beneath them, his on top of hers, pressing her downwards, feeling her curves, so familiar, so utterly a part of him that he hadn’t even realized. “I’m not ready to say goodbye.”
She sobbed; he tasted it in his mouth and knew he should stop, that this would only complicate things, but there was something more at work, something predetermined, destined, and his movements became more urgent, her cries urging him onwards, begging him, imploring him, so he thrust into her as though this would answer all their problems, as though this moment would provide clarity.
“I love you,” she cried out, and the world shifted, pain split him in two. For the briefest moment, he imagined what it would be like to say those words back, to offer himself to her completely, to share in the vision she held for their future, theirfamily. But the very idea of that, of how much pain came from loss when you loved, had him pushing her words away angrily, possessing her with a fierce determination to blot out her love, rather than accept it.
“You want me,” he corrected. “Your body wants mine. That’s what this is.”
This time, when she sobbed, he saw the anguish on her face, because he was poised above her, and as painful as it was to register that expression, he was glad; he needed to remember that he’d done this to the most kind-hearted woman he’d ever known. He needed to remember how capable he was of breaking a person. He could never forget. And he could never again ask her to stay—the cost was too high. He’d already asked her to pay a price he hadn’t intended; that had to be the end of it. He had to let her go.
Chapter14
“I DIDN’T EXPECT YOU to stay so long.”
It took a moment for the words to filter through Leonidas’ brain. He turned to face his mother, frowning. To ask what day of the week it was, and how long he’d been on Porto Mezi, would be to reveal far more of his mindset than he was comfortable with, so he shrugged instead. “Do you want me to leave?”
“Leave? Never. I’m happiest when all my children are here. You know that.”
He did. The problem was, all of her children would never be here. Valentina’s absence was a gulf in all of their lives, a pain that he now saw had shaped him more than he’d ever realised. She was his other half, his twin, bonded in a way that defied explanation, and she died. He knew, better than most, what it was like to love completely and lose abruptly. He knew the pain and peril of sharing oneself with another, of loving. He had sought safety, he now realized, all his life, ever since Val’s death. He’d avoided commitment unconsciously, telling himself it was a lifestyle choice, that he was happier this way. But he wasn’t happy now. He was something else entirely, and facing that reality meant he had to examine the motives of his decisions.
He turned back to the view, the stormy ocean appropriate, given his mindset.
“And yet, you’re not really here, are you, Leo?”
“What do you mean?” The words were gruff.
“Ever since she left, you’ve been distracted. Distant.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t. Don’t apologise.” Her eyes wouldn’t meet his. “You did nothing wrong.”
“Oh?”
“You were clear about what you wanted. It’s not your fault I didn’t accept that.”
Wasn’t it? He’d pursued her even when he’d known things were different with them. Even when he’d known she was nothing like the women he usually slept with, even when he’d sensed the danger and felt their spark. Even when Benji had foreshadowed this exact situation.
“Have you spoken to her?”
“Who?” He muttered, playing dumb.
“The Queen of England,” his mother drawled. “Mila, of course.”