Page 54 of Seduced By the Enemy

“I’m fine,” she said, wriggling even further forward, until she was close enough to press a kiss to his brow. Gently, softly, because the moment seemed to call for that.

“But you could just as easily have not been. And I did that to you.”

“You didn’t. It was an accident. As much Leo’s fault, and my own, as it was yours.”

“I should have protected you.”

“It all happened too fast.”

“You don’t understand,” he said, with one quick jerk of his head, pulling away from her a little before standing and pacing across the room. In the luxurious, open-plan kitchen, he braced his palms on the counter, staring across at her with an expression that she could best describe as haunted.

“Make me understand, then,” she implored. Because as sure as day followed night, she knew he was holding something back from her. That maybe he’d always been holding it back.

She wanted to be close to him. To reach for him and hold him, but something—a preservation instinct?—held her still, bracing on the sofa for whatever would follow.

“I’ve never wanted this,” he said, quietly, but with determination. “I’ve never wanted a relationship with a woman. Casual, easy sex has literally been the sum total of my aspirations for as long as I can remember.”

“I know that,” she said. But they were different, she wanted to argue. They were so much more than what he’d just described. Was there any point, though, in telling him that? If he didn’t see it and feel it, would she ever be able to convince him?

“But what you don’t know is why.”

His whole body was rigid, as though steel had been poured through his spine. He was such a big man—strong and muscular, confident and authoritative—but there was something about him in that moment that made her ache for his vulnerability. She stayed where she was, half afraid to move in case it stopped him from saying whatever was on his mind.

“I was with a girl once—a long time ago. I let it go too far. I let her think it was serious. That I wanted more. Back then, I didn’t know I didn’t want more, I just knew I didn’t love her. In some ways, I was no different to Jesse.”

She stifled a snort. There was no way Salvatore would ever treat a woman the way Jesse had her.

“I used her,” Salvatore contradicted the words she hadn’t said. “Looking back, all the signs were there that she was more into me than I was her, but I liked her company, I liked sleeping with her, and on balance, I just didn’t think about what was best for her.”

“How old were you?” Emilia pushed, gently.

“Nineteen.”

“Still just learning, Salvatore.”

“It doesn’t change the effect my choices had on her. Melania was devastated when I ended it, yet I walked away without a backwards glance. I’d moved on. Easy enough to do when your feelings aren’t involved.”

Sympathy twisted inside Emilia for the unknown Melania. She understood completely how hard it would be to get over Salvatore. A huge part of her hoped she’d never have to, but her inner-realist was starting to understand that there was a reason Salvatore had been such a playboy. It was entirely possible he’d never commit to a woman.

“You were so young,” she reminded him. “I’m sure it hurt, at the time, but that’s part of growing up. Getting your heart broken, learning from the experience?—,”

“She tried to kill herself, Emilia.” His voice was hollowed out, so she knew that he still felt the trauma of that, deep in his soul.

She gasped, no longer able to stay on the sofa. She pushed up and crossed the room quickly, wrapping her arms around him from behind and pressing her cheek to his back. “That’s not your fault.”

His laugh was a short sound, totally devoid of any mirth. “She left a note blaming me.”

Emilia closed her eyes, as sympathy turned to something else—anger. “You had every right to break up with her.”

“I handled it badly. I was in the wrong, and if it hadn’t been for a family member going to her house unexpectedly and finding the pill bottle beside the bed, she would have succeeded. I almost killed her.”

“I’m so sorry you went through that. I’m sorry she wanted more than you could give. But you cannot carry that guilt around your whole life.”

“It’s not guilt,cara.Not anymore. It’s determination. I made many stupid mistakes in my relationship with Melania—mistakes I have never—and will never—repeat.”

Something stitched inside Emilia as a hint of comprehension began to form. “That’s why you sleep around.”

“It’s why I don’t get involved,” he amended slightly, spinning then in the circle of her arms to face her properly. His bruised face was so earnest, so full of concentration. Like it was the most important thing in his life to get her to understand. “I will never risk hurting a woman like that again. I cannot live my life knowing that I’m the cause of that sort of pain.”

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