Straining against his hold again, I huff out a breath and deflate beneath him. Fine. If he wants to hash this out, we’ll hash it out.
Composing myself as best as I can, given the position I am in, I level him with a glare. “You said you came back for me.” It takes everything in me to keep my tone even. Indifferent. When inside, I’m brimming with resentment that borders on rage.
“I did—“
“No,” I cut him off. “You came back for revenge. You’re using me. Using the terms of my inheritance to get back at my father. This was never about me.” Not really. And god, why does that have to hurt so badly? I thought I was beyond this. It’s been five freaking years. He should not have this much power over me. I shouldn’t even care.
Andrés’s expression tightens, but he doesn’t refute my words, which makes me even angrier.
“Tell me I’m wrong?”
Silences stretches between us.
“You can’t, can you?”
I twist my hands in his grip, and he releases me. Pressing up on my elbows, I shove against his chest, aware that him getting off of me now is his choice. Shifting to the side, Andrés turns his back to me and sits on the edge of the bed, head bowed and arms resting on his thighs.
I scoot back against the headboard, putting as much space between us as the bed will allow, but it’s still not enough.
Tugging at the strands of his dark brown hair, he makes an agitated noise in the back of his throat. “It isn’t like that.” He bites off his words.
“Oh, really?” How ignorant does he think I am? “So you’ve changed your mind, then? You’re not going to force me to marry you?”
Peering over his shoulder, he glowers at me, eyes darkening. “I’m not forcing—“
“Do I have a choice in all this? Is that what you’re telling me?” Because from where I’m sitting, all of my choices, one by one, are being stripped away.
“You want to marry Maxim Sidorov?” He spits out my fiancé’s name like a curse.
“Of course not.” I hate him almost as much as I hate Andrés right now.
Victory flashes in Andrés’s gaze.
“That doesn’t mean I want to marry you, either.”
He scowls. “You have to marry.”
“I’m aware,” I snap. “That doesn’t mean I want to marry. Or that I have any say in who I marry. Stupid men like you and my father are determined to make decisions about my life for me. Even when they’re the wrong ones.”
Something shifts in his expression. Turning his head forward, he nods. “You’re right.”
Tightness crowds inside my chest. I am?
“If I don’t force your father’s hand, if I don’t demand he give me your hand in marriage…”
I hold my breath.
“What happens to you?”
Scrutinizing his profile, I try to figure out where he’s going with this.
“I marry Maxim.” That was always the plan. Contracts have been signed. Promises have been made.
“But you don’t want to be his wife?”
“No.” No woman in her right mind would want to bind herself to a man like that. But, it’s temporary. A week. A month at most. Just long enough to secure my escape.
“If given the choice, would you rather be his wife over mine?” Now, he looks at me. His amber eyes penetrate mine, and before I can stop myself, my answer falls from my lips.
