A muscle ticced in his jaw, but slowly, he lifted the phone to his ear and coolly recited his coordinates to my pilot. Then he disconnected the line, tossed the phone onto the bed and fixed determined eyes on me.
I pre-empted him before he opened his mouth. ‘I’m not going to change my mind, Jensen.’
‘We have at least an hour before the chopper gets here. Are you planning on not talking to me in that time?’ he taunted.
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
I hurried to the closet where he’d placed my weekender. Snatching whatever personal items I could locate within easy reach, I mentally dismissed taking things like my toothbrush and the toiletries scattered around his bathroom. They were easily replaceable.
Plus, moving around meant I didn’t have to acknowledge the hard, painful knot in my belly that grew tighter with every second.
‘Why the sudden hurry, Graciela?’ Jensen asked, his voice deep, throbbing with challenge.
I didn’t want to look his way, but, God, I couldn’t help myself. His arms were folded as he lounged against his bedroom wall, his stance deceptively calm. But his eyes gleamed with purpose that stated he wasn’t about to let me leave with a dismissive wave and a hollow promise.
‘What are you talking about?’
‘I’m talking about you, attempting to shut the door after the horse has bolted. What happened downstairs was unsettling, I know, but—’
I forced a laugh, one so false it grated my throat. And made his face tighten with irritation. ‘Unsettling? Why, because I shed a few tears? Don’t make it a bigger deal than it was, Jensen. Sure, I was due a little...catharsis, but it was hardly life-altering...’
My words trickled away when his face grew tighter, the warmth leaving his eyes. ‘That’s the second time you’ve attempted to dismiss something significant as nothing—’
‘Because it was nothing!’
His arms dropped, his jaw rippling as he took a slow breath. ‘It wasn’t nothing. What happened with your mother was shitty and traumatic. You shame yourself by trivialising it now because you let your guard down. Did you forget what you promised me?’
My thundering heartbeat threatened to drown out everything. ‘I warned you people break their promises all the time.’
An emotion that closely resembled bleakness filmed his eyes for a moment before he blinked it away. ‘Yes, you did. But I chose to believe you when you said you’d be truthful about whatever you were feeling. About what happened between us.’
‘And you think I’m not?’
His pointed look spoke volumes. ‘I know a little bit about denial and the people who practise it, Graciela. My mother was an expert at it. And you are so fully immersed in it, it’s any wonder you can fucking breathe,’ he scythed at me, cold fury drenching his features.
The searing accusation, and the caustic acknowledgement of its truth, made me turn away from him before he saw his effect. I silently willed my pilot to hurry before I did something foolish, like beg Jensen not to be disappointed in me, to help me see myself the way he wanted to see me. But that was a road fraught with even more disappointment. After all, wasn’t what I’d predicted already unfolding before my eyes?
Zipping the bag, I lifted it and blindly headed for the door.
‘Aren’t you going to say anything?’
I forced a shrug. ‘What’s the point? You seem to have me psychoanalysed inside and out.’
Without asking my permission, he stepped forward and took the bag from me. But he made no move to leave the room. His presence surrounded me, his beautiful masculine scent invading my every pore. ‘And you’re just going to take it?’ he jeered.
Fear and frustration shook through me. ‘Jensen...’
He exhaled, long and loud. Then he jerked towards me.
‘Min elskerinde...’
The fury and mockery were gone, his voice low. Gentle. Coaxing.
‘Stay. Take a day, let’s sort through this.’
With every fibre of my being I wanted to scream yes.
My heart dropped to my stomach, acceptance that our agreement was officially over, that I was no longer his mistress, or he my sub, blinding me with pain so acute, I nearly gasped.
It if hurts this much, then why are you leaving?
Because what I wanted didn’t matter. Because...
You’re not enough. You’ll never be enough.
My mother’s words echoed and re-echoed in my head. And the heart I thought had shrivelled to uselessness after being steeped in years of pain and bitterness started to bleed.
‘I’d stay if there was something worth staying for,’ I forced out. ‘It’s been fun, but we both know that was all this was ever going to be.’
Gentleness evaporated and the cold scorn returned. ‘Bullshit. Cut the lies and say it like it is. You’re going to board your chopper and run away because you’re scared.’
He waited, eyes fixed on me as a minute ticked by. Two.
I remained silent, holding my tattered emotions inside because I was terrified of opening my mouth. Petrified I would scream that, yes, everything he said was true.
With a tight curse, he left the room and jogged downstairs with my bag. I followed, mourning the sight of my bag propped beside the door. Avoiding the taunting images of a Graciela who apparently lived inside me but wasn’t strong enough to reach for what she wanted, I perched on the farthest end of the sofa, staring into the fire and fighting the tears that threatened.
Stealthily, I watched Jensen prowl around the room, tugging on his thick coat and boots. When the ominous sound of a helicopter approaching shattered the silence, he strode to my bag, picked it up and opened the door.
A chill wind blew in, but it was nothing compared to the cold seizing my insides at the thought of leaving this rustic cabin. Leaving Jensen.
‘You’ll hear from me shortly,’ he said, his voice stony.
My heart leapt, then the true meaning sank in. He was talking about the project. The work I’d given just fleeting thought to over the past three days. ‘My assistant will put you in touch with the editorial team.’
His jaw clenched and
