I hang up and stand, torn between wanting to kiss Kane—because it’s been a month since I’ve seen him and I’ve missed him more than I’ll ever admit—and wanting to tell him to get out because I left for Russia to get away from him, needing time to think.
“You found me,” I whisper, drinking him in.
He’s dressed in a white button-down shirt with his sleeves rolled to his forearms and a pair of charcoal slacks. He’s sporting a full beard and messy hair, like he hasn’t shaved or gotten a haircut in weeks. His usually bright brown eyes are dull, and he has faint black circles under his eyes. My brothers told me that he wasn’t taking my leaving well, which I didn’t understand since he was literally the one who’d had the divorce papers drawn up, but seeing him like this has me wondering if they weren’t wrong.
“I’ve been looking for you since you left,” he admits, cutting across the room.
I take a step back, and he stops short and frowns.
“You should’ve let me explain.”
“Explain why you not only messed with my birth control, but also pretended to care about me, only for you to have divorce papers drawn up?” I scoff. “I think it’s all pretty obvious. You?—”
“Love you,” he interjects, stepping toward me. “I love you, Princess.” He raises his hand like he wants to touch me, but then he shakes his head and puts the hand in his pocket. “That’s why I had the divorce papers drawn up.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” I choke out, in shock that he just told me the very words I’d longed to hear, only to follow it up with it being his reason for wanting a divorce.
“It does,” he says. “I love you enough to let you go. The truth is, when I came to town, I never planned to force you to marry me.” He chuckles humorlessly. “My only goal was to fuck up the waterfront expansion. But then I saw how profitable it was, and instead of fucking it up, I wanted in on it.”
He takes another step toward me. Instead of refraining this time, he gently cups the side of my face, and instinctually, I lean into it, craving his warmth.
“And then I met you,” he murmurs, using his thumb to stroke my jawline.
I should push him away. Insist that he not touch me. But I’m weak when it comes to Kane. He’s the only man I’ve let in and let my guard down for. And even though his betrayal hurts like hell, I can’t help the way my body and heart react to his touch. My entire life, I’ve craved control, but with Kane, I willingly want to relinquish it to him.
“We spent the night together, and I knew that one night wouldn’t be enough.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask, confused as to why he let me leave without saying something. “I felt the same way,” I admit. “Theonly reason why I left without saying anything was because you’d dismissed me.”
“Because you were the enemy.” He brings his other hand up and holds my face between his hands. “And I knew, once you learned who I was, there was no way you would willingly marry me. So, I told myself, by forcing you to marry me, I was getting what was owed to my family. But there was never a moment that I didn’t want you. Hell, I’m almost positive I was in love with you before I even said my vows.”
“And to prove how much you loved me, you had divorce papers drawn up?”
Kane shakes his head and steps back, and I immediately miss his touch.
“I had the divorce papers drawn up the day after you told me you had been raped and then forced to have an abortion.”
My heart sinks.
I was right.
“Because I’m damaged goods.”
“What?” he hisses, closing the space between us again. “No.” He pulls me into his arms and moves us to the couch, settling me in his lap. “You are not damaged,” he bites out. “You are the strongest fucking person I’ve ever known.”
“Then why don’t you want to be with me?” I choke out, hating how vulnerable I sound.
“I do,” he argues. “I want more than anything to be with you, baby. But you’ve been forced into doing shit your entire life, and I knew that if I forced you to stay in this marriage, you would never truly love me the way I love you.”
He drops his head against my chest, and without thinking, I delve my fingers into the soft strands of his hair.
When he glances back up at me, his whiskey-colored eyes are glassy. “You deserve to have a choice, Bri. So, I drew up the divorce papers so you could finally have a choice.” His hands go to my hips, and his fingers dig into my flesh. “I never should’ve taken your choices away from you. So, the decision is yours. If you stay married to me, Ipromise I’ll love you for the rest of our lives. But …” He swallows thickly, his features turning pained. “If you sign the divorce papers, I’ll let you go, no matter how hard it’ll be.”
He’s giving me a choice.
He doesn’t want a divorce.
And then I remember a crucial detail that he isn’t aware of.
