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He cupped her cheek so gently that it was a lie in and of itself. His touch spoke of such tenderness and affection, yet he didn’t feel those things for her.
‘I don’t love you, but not because you’re unlovable, agápi mou.’
She dipped her eyes downwards, focusing on the floor between them, fresh pain scoring her heart. ‘Then why not?’
She felt his gaze burning the top of her head and waited for an answer, an explanation, anything he could offer that would lessen the sting of this rejection.
‘Because I’m not capable of it. And because it’s not what I want.’
You’re not what I want.So simple. So final.
She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her eyes of tears and her brain of the tangle of emotions. ‘I have to get out of here.’ It was a whispered resolution at first. Then stronger. ‘I have to go home.’ Home? What a farce.
‘Yes.’ His agreement was the final straw. She spun away from him just in time; her sob escaped with enough warning to muffle it completely. ‘I’ll have my jet fuelled up.’
‘No.’ It was an immediate visceral reaction. ‘Not your jet.’ She swallowed furiously. ‘If you can just get me to Athens, I’ll organise my own flight home.’
‘Beatrice, be sensible. I have a plane on standby. It’s no trouble.’
‘No.’ She shook her head to underscore how serious she was. Everything about his private jet would only remind her of him. She couldn’t do it. ‘I want to do this myself. Please.’
His eyes warred with hers. She felt he was about to argue and held her breath, reserving her energy for exactly that. But, to her surprise, he dipped his head in agreement. ‘When would you like to leave?’
‘I’m ready now.’
His eyes glittered, something like rejection in them, and a fierce dismissal of that, but again he nodded. ‘I’ll get Danica so that you can say goodbye.’
‘I’ve already done that. Ellen’s taken her for a walk.’ Heat flushed her cheeks. ‘I didn’t want them to overhear our conversation.’
His eyes narrowed and she felt ice run the length of her spine. ‘You’ve thought of everything,’ he remarked with stony reserve.
‘Don’t you dare make me the bad guy here.’
He stared at her, something tightening in his features before he sighed. ‘I’m not. I’m well aware that title is completely mine.’
She could only stare at him, her heart in tatters at her feet, her soul withering deep inside her.
‘Meet me on the roof when you’re ready. I’ll be waiting.’
It was an unconscious echo of the words he’d said on the day they’d gone shopping. So much had happened since then, he hadn’t consciously evoked that time. But he’d thought of it again as he’d waited by the helicopter, watching her walk towards him holding only a garment bag which contained, he presumed, her ballgown. She brought no other bag, none of the clothes she’d accumulated whilst staying here.
He was both glad and sorry. Sorry because it showed how deeply he’d wounded her that Bea wasn’t even able to take her own clothes, and glad because these physical items would serve as some kind of reminder of her. So that when he woke up at night and wondered if it had all been a dream, he’d see the clothes and know that, no, for a little while, he’d had Beatrice in his life.
And he could have her for longer, he argued with himself as she approached. All he had to do was ask her to be patient. To let him see if he could love her.
But he knew the answer already.
This wasn’t about whether he could love Beatrice; it was about whether he wanted her to love him. To depend on him. To rely on him for her happiness and safety. There had been someone relying on him since he was a young boy, and without fail he’d let them down. His mother, his brother, now Danica—he hadn’t even been able to hire appropriate staff to care for her. The idea of Bea depending on him, only to realise what a terrible idea that was...to see her life turn to ashes as he failed her in some vital way?
No.
He couldn’t bear that.
He’d let her go and, despite what she might think now, she’d get over him. She’d move on and because of the experience they’d shared she’d be more open to love with the right sort of man next time.
‘Armandos will take you to the airport,’ he said when she was almost level with him. ‘Unless you would like me to come with you?’
She bristled visibly, moving her head to the side. ‘I’d prefer to go alone.’ Her smile was brittle. ‘Thank you.’
