His expression and voice were pleading.
“Why did you bring me here, Sebastian? And I’d really like to know why you assaulted me last night.”
He gaped at me.
“Assaulted? I didn’t! I’d never…” his words trailed off and he stared at me in anguish, as he saw the anger on my face.
“Actually you did – you were just too drunk to remember it. You’re damn lucky I didn’t report you. Although I’m fairly sure you can work out the reason why I didn’t – why I couldn’t. Good night, Sebastian.”
I took a step away, then turned and looked back at him. “I hope you have a nice life, I really do. And while you’re at it – quit your drinking before you really do something stupid. More stupid.”
And then I turned on my heel and left.
Chapter 3
I was fuming as I strode back to my hotel. Whether it was the chill night air of the memory of his hurt expression as I walked out, my anger began to cool.
And no matter how inappropriate his behavior, I realized it was because he was concerned about my well-being. I shook my head: I really couldn’t figure him out. One minute he was either ignoring me or just plain rude, the next trying to sleep with me, then acting like a jealous boyfriend when he found me with Marc. And how the hell did he find me in the first place? Twice.
I wished we could have talked like two normal human beings. That seemed unlikely. There was too much history, too much turbulent water under the bridge.
By the time I slid the keycard into the door of my hotel room, my ire had leached away. Instead, I felt restless and irritable. I checked my cell to see if I’d had an email from my editor, but although he’d written to say he was still chasing his contacts in the Defense Department, there was no other news. Worse still, it was beginning to look like the delay would be numbered in weeks, not days.
I threw the phone onto my bed in disgust, and decided a hot shower might relax me. It was a futile hope.
I’d just wrapped myself in a towel when I heard a knock at my door. My instincts told me it wasn’t going to be room service.
“Yes?”
“Caro, it’s me. Can we talk?”
“I think we’ve said everything, Sebastian.”
“Can I come in? Just to talk.”
“Is that a joke? No, you can’t.”
There was a pause, then his voice became quieter and more strained.
“Caro, please. I won’t… try anything. I just want to talk to you. Please.”
His voice sounded so desolate, my resolution began to waver, buckle, and give way entirely.
“Okay,” I sighed. “Listen, I’ll meet you in the lobby in five minutes. That’s my best offer.”
“You… you don’t trust me?”
I didn’t reply.
“Okay,” he said, softly, “I’ll be waiting.”
I ran a comb through my wet hair and pulled on a pair of jeans, T-shirt and jacket.
I half expected him to be waiting outside my door, but the corridor was silent and empty.
The elevator slid to the ground floor, exhaling with a soft hiss as the doors opened. My eyes scanned the room and I saw him at once. He was sitting on a long, low sofa, his head in his hands.
When he looked up and saw me, his expression cleared, a small smile appearing on his face. He stood up politely as I approached, but my own gaze, I’m sure, was wary.
I sat on a chair next to the sofa, and waited for him to speak.
“You came,” he said, quietly.
“Evidently. What do you want now, Sebastian?”
My voice was cool and distant, although inside I felt anything but.
“Would you like a drink?”
I raised my eyebrows. “Is that supposed to be funny?”
“No… I…”
He looked longingly towards the bar, then dropped his gaze to his hands.
I crossed my arms and waited for him to speak.
“What you said earlier…” He took a deep breath, and that simple action seemed to raise some sort of emotional barricade.