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Sure, I haven’t had a chance to tell her about my feelings yet, but give me time. I’m a forty year old guy who’s never experienced these feelings before, so the words don’t come so easy. I’ve been mulling it over in my mind over and over again, and to be honest, I think I’m finally ready. I just hadn’t gotten to saying it quite yet when Gemma decided to make her escape.
Now, look where we are. We glare at each other under the harsh light of the kitchen overhead.
“What is wrong with you?” she demands, clutching a raggedy tomcat close to her ample chest. “Why are you here? What, have you been following me or something?”
I snort. The truth is yes, I have, but I avoid her question.
“Why did you try to escape?” I grunt, my blue eyes seizing her brown ones. Usually, they’re the color of melted caramel, but right now, they’re shooting sparks and flashing light.
“Escape?” she parrots, gripping the cat closer. “What makes you think I was doing that?”
I snort.
“Because you took off at 3 a.m. Only prisoners do prison breaks during the dead of the night, sweetheart,” I say in a dry voice. “You know, you could have told me. I could have given you a ride, if that’s what you wanted.”
Suddenly, realization storms Gemma like a wave. The blood drains from her face and her mouth falls open.
“You knew the entire time, didn’t you?” she demands. “That I was making my getaway?”
I smirk a bit, leaning my big body against the kitchen countertop. A snap sounds and I jerk away, looking down with horror. Man, this place is really sad. The countertop’s made of an aged plastic of some sort, and the light tap with my hip caused a giant crack to appear right at the corner.
“You’re breaking my house!” Gemma screeches. “What in the world? You knew, didn’t you?”
I don’t even try to avoid the question this time, holding up both my hands in a pacifying gesture.
“I knew,” I confirm. “I knew you were taking off, and I wanted to know why. Why would you leave me? Don’t you have everything you need? You can take correspondence courses if you want to go to college. You can keep your apartment. You don’t have to have a job! Isn’t that what all women dream about?”
Gemma’s so angry now that her cheeks go bright red, and I resist the urge to lean forwards and kiss her. That would not be appreciated right now.
“So as I was sneaking out of your suite, walking down the hall, bumping into Mary …” her voice trails off.
“Yep, I knew,” I say cheerily. “Sweetheart, no one leaves the compound without us knowing. We have cameras everywhere, and former Israeli defense forces on staff, tracking all comers and goers.”
“Well, why did you let me go then?” she interrupts, glaring at me. Damn, this girl is even more beautiful when she’s angry, and again, I have to fight back the urge to kiss that delectably pouty mouth. But this is the time to tell the truth, and I need Gemma to know what I’ve been feeling lately.
“I wanted to see if you hated me so much that you’d actually try and escape,” I say in a low voice. “Because I wouldn’t be able to take it if you did, Gem. I love you, sweetheart, and this whole thing has broken my heart.”
She stares at me dumbstruck. At that moment, that raggedy cat Henry decides to wriggle away from Gemma, and he lands in a thump on the floor before disappearing like a flash. Damn, even old felines are fast.
“I’m sorry?” comes her hoarse voice. “What did you say?”
I take one small, limp hand in my own, her pale flesh disappearing between my bronzed fingers.
“I love you, Gemma Kane,” are my simple words. “It’s killing me that you won’t stay with me. It’s killing me that you hate life at the club so much that you’d risk life and limb to come back here,” I say, gesturing to the apartment around us. “It’s not that your place is shabby or anything. I’m just saying that it breaks my heart that you’d sneak out like an escapee, rather than telling me to my face that we’re done.”
She stares at me again, her hand still lifeless between my own. Her mouth opens, but no words come out. I press forward.
“I love you,” are my hoarse words as my heart beats painfully in my chest. “But I understand. You need your freedom, and my love isn’t enough. Besides, doesn’t the old saying say, “If you love something, then let it go?” I love you, Gem,” I say, bringing her hand up to my mouth and pressing a kiss against her pulse. “But I’ll let you go if that’s what you want.”
