Page 39 of A Dangerous Kind of Love

I lean into her ear.

“Love had nothing to do with it.”

I turn and walk out.

When I step inside the conservatory, sunlight pours through the glass ceiling and spills across the tiled floor. Katie sits on a bench beside the fountain with one hand raised carefully in front of her. A butterfly rests on the tip of her finger, its delicate wings fluttering while she watches it with quiet fascination. She’s smiling to herself, completely entranced by the tiny creature balanced on her hand.

I pause inside the doorway and lean a shoulder against the frame, watching her for a moment before saying anything.

The butterfly flutters away from her finger, drifting lazily toward the glass ceiling. Katie watches it go, her gaze following the delicate movement of its wings until it disappears into the greenery above. When she finally looks around the room, her eyes land on me standing in the doorway.

Her face brightens instantly.

“You’re back.”

I cross the room and stop in front of her.

“I am.”

I sit down beside her on the bench, the iron cool beneath my hands as I rest them on my knees. I look over at her.

“Can we talk?”

“Whoa,” she says, tilting her head as she watches me. “When did everything get so serious?”

I glance toward the fountain for a second before looking back at her.

“Well,” I say, “there’s something I need to tell you, and I’m not sure how much you’re going to like me once I do.”

“You really are a serial killer,” she mutters. “Dammit.”

I can’t help but laugh at that. She leans into me for a second, bumping her shoulder lightly against mine before pushing away again. She just made this infinitely harder.

“No. But until about twenty minutes ago, I was engaged.”

She lets out a short laugh, shaking her head. She thinks I’m joking.

Her eyes lift to my face, and the humor drains from hers almost instantly.

“You’re serious.”

“Yes.”

She stands up so abruptly the bench creaks behind her.

“Fuck you.”

She pivots toward the doors, clearly intending to leave, but I step in front of her before she can get there.

“Move.”

I hold my ground.

“Katie, listen to me.”

“No.” She shakes her head, anger flashing across her face. “You cheated on your fiancée with me. I’m not that girl.”

“I didn’t love her.”