She’d been sure she knew why he was in Paris and had been ready for the fight. His shock at learning the details of the Spaniard plan had surprised her. Regret and heartbreak stamped his features when she told him about her search for spouses.
Last night felt different. Not the fiery burning fight they’d had in the Long Room in Dublin, or even the cold, controlled confrontations they’d had while he held her in Triskelion Castle.
Last night, he’d been calm and focused when he told her what he wanted. Normally during a discussion about their relationship, his words came out shrouded in shame.
She’d been called bitchy and ruthless many times in her life, but with him, she always gave in and let emotion take control.
Except for last night. He’d finally done what she hoped and wished for—openly declared both his love and his desire for a future with her.
Instead of running into his arms, she’d wrapped herself in the cold, cold shell and been ruthless. She said no.
It was almost like they’d flipped, each taking on the other one’s emotional mantle.
She’d spent most of last night lying awake, going over and over their rain-soaked encounter, her emotions scattered and chaotic, like billiards after the first break. Some feelings bounced off the walls of her heart to ricochet and crack against another emotion.
And once she’d settled down, breathing deep and deliberately compartmentalizing all those scattered feelings, she’d been left with one emotion she just couldn’t put away.
Curiosity.
What changed?
She’d fallen asleep just after dawn, and when she woke up around lunch, her first thought had been why now? What changed?
Something momentous must have happened for Eric to go from savagely planning to marry her off to confessing his love and asking her to dinner. He’d flown to Paris, arguably neutral ground, with flowers and a plan.
She should let it go. Intellectually, she knew that it didn’t matter what had changed for him, because nothing had changed for her. He was still an ass whose past meant he wasn’t capable of a relationship.
An ass she wanted.
It had taken everything in her not to touch him last night. When he’d grabbed her—in an attempt to shake some sense into her, which was arguably the most normal part of the whole interaction—the flush of relief she felt at the contact had been quickly followed by need.
Maybe last night she could have said no to dinner but yes to sex. Use that to prove to both of them that on her end, the emotional entanglement was dead and buried, and the physical attraction was just a chemical and biological imperative.
That was a fool’s idea. She wasn’t capable of casual sex. Not when it came to Eric. She loved the intensity of their encounters. It was never simple. Always a battle. One she enjoyed even when she “lost.”
There was no shame in losing to a man like Eric.
That meant the only sane thing to do was to do exactly what she’d done last night: say no and walk away. Residual pain and rage made it easy to go cold. A cold so bitter it burned.
She’d held on to that anger and hurt with both hands to stop herself from doing what she really wanted, which was to goadand push him until he picked her up and kissed her. One of those hot, punishing kisses that gave her permission to let go and give in.
Nikolett was self-aware enough to acknowledge that she enjoyed the chaos, drama, and action that surrounded him. More importantly, she loved the feeling of fighting beside him almost as much as she enjoyed fighting with him.
She wasn’t built for a quiet, simple existence. She wanted someone who lived just as boldly and loudly as she did, unafraid of danger and refusing to turn away from any test.
In many ways, Eric was chaos.
But so was she.
Gripping the edge of the vanity, she stared at herself. She had to stop thinking about it. And if she did think about it, about him, focus only on that curiosity.
Above all, the one emotion she had to keep in the Pandora’s box of her mind was hope. A traitorous hope that had rooted while she slept and grown and flowered through the day as she went over and over what he’d said last night.
Our relationship up to now is over. Dead. Because we both want, and need, it that way.
Now we can try again. Grow something new.
If you give me a chance, Nikki, I will love the way you deserve to be loved.
