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Chapter 40
A Secret Kiss
Darcy removed Kate’s arms from around his neck and pushed her back, his face a mask of anger. “What are you doing?” he asked coldly. “I thought I told you it’s over.”
Kate watched Sakura walking away and smiled with satisfaction. Oh yes, Sakura had seen them all right, and that pleased Kate very much. At least that part of their plan had worked. Not so where Darcy was concerned, however. He was a stubborn old goat all right. Here she was, offering herself to him on a silver platter—all of her—and he hadn’t batted an eyelid. In fact, he was so pissed off with her that he nearly slapped her face just mere moments ago.
Kate folded her arms across her chest and smiled at him. “I’m coming back to you. Is that wrong?” She moved closer to him and touched his arm. “I love you, Darcy. Please come back to me.”
Darcy gritted his teeth. “How many times, Kate? How many times do I have to tell you? It’s over.”
Kate cocked her head to one side. “Tell me one thing, Darcy. Are Tara and Alaina right? Are you in love with that bitch?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Sakura!” She barked out the name in disgust. “That bitch Sakura.”
Darcy had had enough. “Listen here, Kate,” he began in a low, heated voice. “Yes, I love her. I have always loved her, even before I met you. She’s the woman who makes me feel pain and pleasure at the same time. She’s the woman who makes my heart beat fast and slow at the same time. She’s the woman who I think about every second. I love her, Kate, and I’ve never loved you. Is that clear enough for you to understand?”
Kate gritted her teeth and then bashed her fist on his chest. “You bastard! What about our relationship?”
“We’ve never had a relationship, Kate. Ever!” Darcy closed his eyes and his heart ached. He had to tell Sakura how he felt. How could he back out and let the woman he had loved all his life go to someone else, even though that someone else was his very own brother? But then again, how could he do that to his own brother? Sebastian too loved Sakura, and Darcy could never do such a horrible thing to Sebastian. Darcy could never steal the woman Sebastian loved.
“Good-bye, Kate,” he said coldly and then walked away. He didn’t return to the hotel to rejoin the wedding that was still in progress. Instead, he walked home along the highway—alone—his mind in a muddle of confusion and his heart in pain. Somewhere in the middle of the night, when the moon was high, he couldn’t help himself and ran until he was exhausted, breathless, and puffing, sweat soaking his body.
When he finally couldn’t go any farther, he collapsed to his knees in the middle of the empty road. As he lifted his head to gaze at the moon, tears were in his eyes and his heart ached, tormenting him to such an extent that he couldn’t help himself and screamed. He howled long and loud. His voice, hollow with agony, echoed across the air like a lone wolf in the woods, grieving for the loss of his mate.
When he finally couldn’t scream anymore, he cried, his head in his hands against the pavement. Oh, how he hurt. What was he going to do?
Snow, my dear Snow. What should I do?
Some while later, when he managed to get hold of himself again, he got up and slowly made his way homeward, his pace slow.
It was after midnight by the time he reached Princeton Mansion, and as he made his way up toward the house, he saw the person who was responsible for his tormented heart.
She was wearing her very lovely nightdress, like the one she’d worn that night he and his brothers had met her in the garden near the pond. She looked like a wood nymph then, and she looked like a wood nymph now. Snow, my Snow.
He wanted to go to her. He wanted to take her into his arms. God, he ached.
