My Sweet Isabella (The Ambassador Trilogy #3) (12 page)

T
he
vineyard became a busy place again with more security I didn’t want. I made a very serious rule that no matter what, no one was allowed to come into my home, whenever they wanted. That was the one place I could go to get away from the security and press. Somehow the press found out where I lived, and they were camped out around the entrance of our driveway. We were becoming prisoners in our own home. I was mean, and irritable. Isabella was at the front line of my anger. I didn’t mean to be such an asshole. Also in the back of my mind, I knew each day she was with me, I put her life in danger. Worrying about her and feeling sorry for myself took a toll on me and everyone around me. As the weeks went by and the irritation of my situation dragged on, our sex life grew cold, and I began to feel like a caged animal.

I needed her desperately. I wanted her so bad my whole being hurt, but I wasn’t good to her. She deserved so much better. That morning I woke up with her snuggled to my body. I melted into her naked body and I didn’t want it to end. That may be the last time I wake up to her. The thought tore me to shreds.

I had to let her go home and now was the time. She was in danger every minute she was in Paris, and now with this Andrea missing, her safety could be in even more peril. I didn’t want her to know what was going on yet. If I did, she wouldn’t leave me. I didn’t want her to worry. The only other way around this issue was to make her angry with me. That thought made me sick. I lay awake most of the night thinking how to do this in the right way, but there was no right way. Not only would I lose her, but I was going to lose a part of me. There was no way around it. I had to tell her and the longer I didn’t, the harder it was going to be.

As the sun began to filter into our room, I felt her stir. She sat up and pushed that beautiful wild hair out of her eyes like she did every morning and smiled at me. I didn’t smile back. My leg hurt like hell and depression was setting in. Fear darkened her eyes as she looked at me. Tears were surfacing and pooling in those chocolate brown eyes that had so much life in them.

“Tell me what you want? What can I do, Fabrice? You are so sad. Every day you seem to be sadder.” If she only knew I was sad because I had to send her home.

The pain of those words crushed my heart. I never wanted to be the one to make her cry. I was supposed to be the one to make her life amazing, happy, and perfect. I couldn’t guarantee her safety and that alone was enough for me to send her back home where I knew she would be safer.

I couldn’t answer her. I had to come up with something to make her angry with me. I decided to tell her I didn’t think we should get married and that we need to push the wedding back a while. Calling off our wedding was the last thing I wanted to do. Should I keep her with me one more week? Should I just forget she was in danger and hope for the best? Finally, I said something.

“I want to be the Fabrice you fell in love with. I’m trying so hard to be tough and not let this get to me,” I said.

“You are the man I fell in love with. You are my Fabrice. I love you. Don’t be sad today, baby.” I couldn’t bear to see her cry. I drug myself out of the bed, and hobbled to the bathroom. I was surprised every morning I still had a cock to piss with.

I came back and she sat up in bed, naked and so fucking perfect. Her breasts were so full and perky, her stomach flat, and her skin so dewy and glowing. I was about to throw it all away so she could have a life.

“Fabrice, let’s go somewhere today. Let’s take the Bugatti out and you can let me drive. How about we go to Paris and eat at a café, shop, and sit and watch people. I think getting out for a while will do you some good. We could go for a long drive out in the country, whatever you want.” I hadn’t been out of the house since I came back from the hospital except to go to the Embassy. I worked from home once I was released, but had no desire to do anything.

“No, I don’t want to go anywhere.” I grabbed a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt out of my closet. My usual outfit for the day.

“Getting out will be good for both of us. You are getting better every day. You know the doctor said healing would take a while. You were doing so good and now you’re so sad. You need to do something happy, to cheer you up.”

“I said no,” I yelled. I threw my clothes on the floor and walked back to the closet. I don’t know why. Maybe I was trying to hide from what I had to do.

She didn’t say anything.

“Can I help you?” She finally said as she stood up to retrieve my clothes.

I walked back out and grabbed my clothes from her. “No, I don’t need any help. I don’t want any fucking help. I want to be left alone. Please, Isabella leave me alone for a while.”

She stood in front of me naked, perfect, and hurting. I had not raised my voice at her so loudly. Yes, I was depressed and pissed most days, but I never yelled at her, not like that. I cringed inside.

“All I want is you, Fabrice. All I need is you, broken, bruised, hurt, I don’t care. I’m so happy you are alive and soon we will be back in Washington.” She walked up to me smiling trying to soften my anger. She was good at diffusing situations. Before the attack she would have told me to fuck off.

“Shut up, Isabella.” I tried to make her angrier at me. That way this whole thing that I was about to do would be a lot easier.

She gasped and her gaze on me halted. She looked shocked. What had I done? There was no turning back now. I’d set the wheels in motion, and I had to keep going.

I turned away from her. I was embarrassed at being so brash and not wanting to look at her when I told her what I swore I would never say.

She didn’t hesitate and came and wrapped her arms around my body. I tightened. I wasn’t worthy of her arms or her love with what I was about to do.

“Fabrice, I love you so much. I can’t wait to be your wife. Do you know my mom picked out her dress already? I haven’t even picked out my dress yet and I’m the bride. I’m thinking black and ivory for the colors. Do you like that?”

I turned around and looked at her. Now was the time. I had to do this horrific thing now.

“Isabella”

“What?” her beautiful face smiled up at me. Her face, so perfect, so full of life. She sat back down on our bed.

“We need to talk,” I said with an expressionless gaze on her.

“You don’t like black and ivory. I don’t care. Pick some colors you like. You know how much I hate this shit. I will, however be the one picking the food and desserts.”

I grabbed her hands. “No, that’s not why. Listen to me. I…I can’t marry you. Not like this. I’m not the same man anymore. I’m depressed and angry. You don’t need to be stuck here with me in this house all the time. It’s not fair to you. Listen how I yelled at you. You don’t deserve that.” I watched her face turn from happiness to sorrow in a second. She sat there looking at me not understanding what I said to her.

“What?” The look on her face was something I won’t forget.

“Isabella, I have nothing to offer you right now. I can’t satisfy you like I used to. I’m damaged. I’m depressed and angry. What will I be like in ten or twenty years?” She stared at me and surged to her feet, pacing our bedroom.

“This makes no sense, Fabrice. Am I not taking care of you good enough? I will try harder. I know I’ve been preoccupied with cooking and Avery here, but I will work harder to be there for you.” She walked to her closet and threw on a pair of jeans and a shirt in a panic as if she knew.

Her hands went to her wild hair. Her words were tearing me apart.

“It’s not you. It’s me. This is my fault. I’m so sorry, Isabella.”

‘If this is about sex, what the fuck. I could care less about being tied up or dominated. You can still make love to me and that is all I care about. We’ve hit a slow spot, so what. That’s expected. What you did to me the other morning was earth shattering. Why would you say you can’t marry me?”

Her voice became louder. Her breathing rapid. I could tell she was getting pissed off at me and fast.

“You are too special to be tied down to something like this. I’ve aged ten years in three months. Look at me.”

“I’m looking at you. I look at you every day, and I see the same man I saw the night of the gala. You are the same man with an injury that will eventually get better. This is fucking bullshit.” She screamed pointing at my face. I wanted to take all I said back, but I couldn’t now. I should have waited. She had been so good to me over the past three months taking care of me and helping me heal.

“Listen to me. Let’s put the wedding on hold and see if this is what you want. Go back home for a while. Take a break from all this and enjoy life a little. When I come back to Washington, we can see how we feel.”

“Put the wedding on hold? Who the fuck does that? The date has been announced in the paper. People are making plans. The invitations have been printed. I don’t understand where this is coming from. I have never made you feel like you are less than a man. I have done nothing these past three months but keep you uplifted. Why are you doing this?” Her voice began to shake as she sobbed. She covered her face with her hands and cried harder ripping my insides out. I wanted to hold her. I wanted to love her. I wanted to keep her with me forever.

“Please understand. I love you more than anything.”

“Shut up.” She cut me off.

Pulling open the closet door she raced in and grabbed her suitcases. I sat down on the bed.

“Would you please settle down and let’s talk about this some more?”

She stopped and turned around and looked at me.

“You want me to go, you want me to stay. You make love to me one night and tell me I’m your world and the next day you say we can’t get married. You don’t know what the fuck you want, and obviously I’m not it. You’re right, I think it’s best for me to go home. You have your mind made up. I can’t beg a man to love me or marry me. I won’t. I’m going home for a while and be with my family. I need my family.” She was yelling now, the tears streaming down her face. I wanted to kiss them away. I wanted to pick her up like I used to and throw her on the bed. I couldn’t.

“I still love you. I love you so much it’s killing me to do this. Isabella, you don’t need this in your life. I want you to be happy. You can’t be happy with this.” I felt my voice waver as I became upset. The depression, the injury, and now telling the only woman I ever truly loved that I can’t love her hit me.

“You don’t have the authority to tell me what and how I can be happy. You and only you make me happy. You are all I need, crippled, damaged, or whatever you want to call yourself. I don’t want anyone else. I never will. You know, I didn’t feel worthy enough of loving you. I never felt like I was good enough or high class enough for you. You told me over and over to stop, that I was all the woman you needed. It took me a long time to feel comfortable being with you. I finally felt that comfort, and now you tell me you don’t want me. You are a bastard.”

“Stay and let’s talk some more.” I murmured hanging my head and regretting what I had just done.

“Stay. What the fuck? Do you even know what you are saying anymore? Stay, go, stay, I want to marry you, I don’t want to marry you. No, I have to get out of here.” She walked back over to her closet and ripped her clothes off the hangers and shoved them in her suitcase. The hangers fell to the floor. Drawers were being ripped open and she grabbed her lingerie, socks, jeans, and t-shirts and shoved them angrily into her suitcases. She threw her shoes in a bag and zipped the bag up with a jerk.

“This is the best right now Isabella. You need a better life than I can offer.” I tried to make myself believe that more than her.

“There is no life other than you. You were my life, Fabrice. I don’t understand why you are throwing us away. I don’t understand any of this.”

“I’m not throwing us away. I want you to have some time without me. You need some happiness. I’m taking your happiness away.

“You were my happiness. I can’t believe this. Last night you made love to me and told me I kept you sane. Today you wake up and tell me we need to cancel the wedding.” My Isabella. If I could make her understand she was my life. I loved her so much I had to let her go. Telling her that we need to postpone the wedding was like stabbing my heart with a knife. Watching her pack and go back home without me was a nightmare I didn’t know if I would live through.

What I wanted to do was rip her dress of her body, tie her to my bed and drive her to insanity. I wanted to bury my head in her sweet pussy. I wanted to feel her come on my lips as she begged me not to stop I wanted her to stay here with me so I could love her. Oh God, what have I done? Those terrorists should have killed me. It would have been easier to die that day instead of dying more and more each day.

“I will be back in Washington in a few weeks. We can talk then when I’m back. Let’s see how things are going.”

She had a crazy look in her eyes. “Don’t bother.” I couldn’t look at her when I spoke again.

“I will have my driver take you to the airport. The plane is there waiting and I will call the pilot and let him know you are on your way.

“The plane is waiting for me? You knew this was going to happen? You planned this, Fabrice? You fucking planned this?”

I called my pilot earlier in the morning and told him that Isabella would be flying back to D.C. and to have the plane ready. I also let my driver know I needed the car ready to go to the airport. He waited as well. Yes, I knew this was going to happen. Without warning, Isabella grabbed a half filled water bottle sitting on the nightstand beside the bed and threw the bottle at me, almost hitting me in the head. Instead the bottle smashed against the wall as water sprayed everywhere.