Page 29 of Seasons of Sin

“I guess I should thank you.” Strange, given that Rocco had destroyed everything Thaddeus had been reveling in.

“It’s not necessary. I know you would have done the same for me.”

“God, Rocco.” Thaddeus turned to stare at the ocean. “Married?”

“Yeah. Only a few months.”

Thaddeus swore. “I cannot believe it.”

“I saw the certificate.”

“Perhaps there is a mistake. Or they have now separated.”

Rocco’s expression was apologetic. “The husband’s some sort of aspiring politician. I saw a photo of them at an event only a fortnight ago.”

Another curse escaped from Thaddeus’s lips. “What’s he like?” He shook his head. “Don’t answer that. Knowing would kill me.”

Rocco’s laugh was without humor. “Come on. Forget her. She’s gone. And if there’s one thing you never have any trouble with, it’s meeting women.”

But he’d never met a woman like Saphire.

Not one.

And she owed him an explanation.

* * *

After several wrongturns and a couple of panic-attack moments, Saphire burst out of the house and into a courtyard. The helicopter was way across the grass, and there was a pilot-looking-person propped against the side. She ran towards it, her eyes blurred by the constant stream of tears.

She knew that she would never get over this.

That leaving him was the hardest thing she’d ever had to do.

But that she had to do it.

He’d given her no choice.

Her feet stumbled on uneven ground and she fell all the way to the grass. Her hands smashed against it and she cried out. The temptation to fall flat and sob and wail was great, but she pushed up instead, standing fluidly and resuming her journey to the aircraft.

She was almost there, about to step off the island and away from the dream that had quickly become the worst kind ofnightmare. Her eyes and thoughts were focused solely on the escape route. She didn’t hear him running behind her. Nor did she see the way his face was etched with emotion when finally, he caught up to her.

The first indication she had that he was with her was his hand, hard and demanding, as it wrapped around her arm. “You are really just going to leave like this?” He shouted the question, his whole manner tautened by fury.

“You told me to get out,” she fired back, pulling her arm free with a force that she knew would quickly give way to weakness and grief.

A muscle moved in his cheek. “I need to know why.” Another shouted statement.

In contrast, her words were barely louder than a whisper. She couldn’t meet his eyes. The anger she saw in them was chilling. “Why do you think?”

“I have no idea. I would never have thought you capable of this.”

“Me either.” She sucked in a deep breath and forced herself to stare up at his beautiful face. Intense wistfulness besieged her.

“Why? Just tell me why, before you go.”

His words were like little hammer blows of desperation against her stricken heart. “You really want me to go?”

“Of course,” he snapped. “You’ve made a fool of me. You’ve used me. You are dishonest. But I still need to know.”