Page 37 of Seasons of Sin

But she couldn’t soften. It was a crucial moment. “And so you branded me like cattle?”

Remorse slashed through him once more. “Thinking of him touching you is going to kill me.”

Her breath burned and her chest heaved. “I’m sorry,” she said finally, her voice shaking. “The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you.”

“You are hurting us both with this decision.”

“I’m sorry,” she said again.

He stared at her; his emotions a tornado that was anchored by impotence.

“Do you love your husband?”

She sucked in a deep breath. Her expression was begging him to stop interrogating her. “I … I don’t know.” She said finally.

It wasn’t the denial he needed to hear, but nor was it an affirmative response.

“Do you love me?” He asked, standing from the bed now and crossing the distance. He wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her to his chest. She lifted her hands and curled them around his neck. Every part of her was hurting.

“I … I can’t,” she groaned. “I can’t. It turns out, I’m not a cheater. I wanted to be. I wanted to, so badly. But our marriage vows … they meant something to me.”

“You have cheated,” he groaned, his eyes devouring her face, wondering how he could feel such love at the same time as such desperation.

“Sex is just sex,” she said tightly. “I’ve come to think that emotional commitment is just as important…”

“Jesus Christ,” he barked crossly. “You are unbelievably childish.”

“Don’t,” she whispered, dipping her head against his chest.

“You are going to go to him, and let him tell you that it was ‘just sex’ with your best friend. And because he’s going tosaythat he loves you, you will make your peace with his behavior?”

“I don’t know,” she shook her head. “I just know I can’t say that I love you. I can’t say that this has been the most incredible week of my life. I can’t say that leaving you is going to kill a part of me, and that I know I’ll never recover.” She lifted her face to his. “I can’t say any of that, because I’m married. I havea husband. And whatever happens between him and me, I have got to respect our marriage enough to deal with it head on.”

“Like he did?” Thad demanded.

Her smile was filled with grief. “That’s the problem,” she said softly. “I thought that too. But it turns out, two wrongs really, really don’t make a right.”

“And one wrong can’t make a right either,” he insisted.

“No. But I know myself, Thaddeus. I won’t respect myself if I don’t respect our marriage.”

“God, you are crazy,” he said, grabbing her cheeks and lifting her face to his. He kissed her with all of the hope in his soul, but they both knew what it was.

A goodbye kiss.

The end was looming.

Only hours later, at the airport, surrounded by tourists, holiday-makers and corporate types going about their business, he grabbed her once more and pulled her to his body. He was wearing a suit now, and he was clean-shaven. He looked completely at odds with the man she’d fallen in love with.

Saphire looked different too. Dressed in the same Prada dress she’d worn on the flight over, she was gradually returning to her old self. Saphire Arana, Version One.

“This is a mistake,” he intoned warningly.

She could hardly meet his eyes. “Maybe.” Her lower lip quivered and he ached to pull it between his teeth. “But you know why I have to do it.”

“Bullshit.” His expression was implacable. “Youwantto do it.”

Saphire shrugged her slender shoulders. “I want to know. I need to know.”