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His frown deepened. “I have no idea why you’re saying these things.”
“Sure you do. And, hey, I understand now why you didn’t want me at the hospital. I get it.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he let out a frustrated sigh. “First of all, that’s not why I didn’t bring you with me to the hospital. And second of all, it’s my job to always be above reproach, to never lose my head, and allowing you to call me names in an outburst of emotion in front of my men isn’t acceptable. It causes a scene I can’t afford to be caught up in right now.”
“Well, don’t worry.” She pointed over her shoulder angrily. “As soon as I get in that car, you’ll never be embarrassed by my outbursts of emotion again.”
“You’re leaving,” he said flatly.
“Yep. Just like you wanted.”
He stared down at her, his blue eyes looked even bluer in the direct sunlight. “I never wanted that, and you know it. I wanted you to stay, so we could get to know—”
She forced a laugh. “Oh, drop the act all ready.”
“I—” He pressed his lips together angrily. Lips she’d kissed last night. Lips she’d never forget. “What act?”
“I know you got my letters, and you laughed about them with Harry,” she snapped. “He told me everything.”
That brow, that cocky, annoying brow lifted again.
She ached to tackle him to the ground, pull out some tweezers, and pluck the whole damn thing right off his face before she left the country for good.
“You must have misunderstood him. I would never laugh at you like that, and as I’ve said—repeatedly—I never got your letters.”
Forcing a cool smile, she crossed her arms. “If you say so.”
“I do,” he snarled, his nostrils flaring.
Finally. He was showing some sort of emotion. “Then tell me how he knew what I wrote to you, and what you wrote back to me, if you never did it?”
“I don’t—” He froze and then laughed. It wasn’t a real laugh, though. Just like her smile wasn’t real. “Of course. I’m a fucking idiot.”
“No arguments there. But, hey, so was I for falling for your tricks when you swore you had no idea where my letters went.” She stepped back, still smiling. “But I’ll be on my way, now that I’ve been given the royal permission to go. Your pal Harry made it very clear I’m not good enough to hang here.”
He caught her elbow. “Alicia—”
“And don’t worry about your car.” She jerked free, stumbling back as she held on to her purse even tighter. “I haven’t lived in one since senior year, so it’ll come back safe and sound,” she said, taking another step back.
“That’s not—” Paling, he stepped forward, visibly shaken. “You did that?”
“Knock it off,” she snapped, because if he kept looking at her like that, like he hadn’t known, she would believe him. Again. And he’d break her heart. Again. “Just knock it off.”
“You lived in your car?” he asked slowly.
“Just like I told you,” she said, “in my letters.”
“I never got your fucking letters!” he shouted, fisting his hands. “Jesus. What is it going to take for you to believe me?”
Staring at him, she blinked, ignored the stupid hope inside of her, and asked unemotionally, “Should I curtsey as I leave, or am I exempt from that, as an American?”
He gave
her a cold look, any and all hint of anger disappearing from his eyes. “You’re so quick to believe the worst of me, to think I could callously use you and lie to you, yet you’re the one running away because you refuse to see the good in anyone else. You won’t take a risk on someone who may or may not hurt you.”
“You told me to go,” she snapped. “Had them pack up my clothes, pick up my bags, and carry them out the door. So don’t act all surprised I’m leaving.”
“I didn’t tell him to do—” He cut himself off, letting out a short laugh. “You know what? Never mind. You wouldn’t believe me anyway.”
