Red Red Wine (Tastes of Seduction) (11 page)

But then wasn’t that what Andrew had given her the whole night?

Exactly what she’d needed.

Chapter Six

Tori wasn’t prepared for the knock on her door—not at close to four in the morning. She’d barely stepped out of the tub before the loud rapping wrenched her from the bathroom.

Her midnight dalliance had ended about forty minutes ago, when she and Andrew had tiptoed into the hotel and gone their separate ways. He’d made no demands when he’d left her, simply touched her nose and told her if she needed him, he’d be waiting back at the gazebo at midnight. He hadn’t pushed or insisted she come. He’d just given her the option should she want it.

Tori thrust her arms into the white toweling robe the hotel provided and knotted the belt at her waist. The long, hot soak in the spa bath may have rinsed away Andrew’s scent, but the languid heat in her belly reminded her of everything they’d done, bringing a fresh shiver of pleasure.

The persistent knocking, however, had her spine stiffening. The heat seeped from her body as she made her way across the suite. Heavy reluctance and icy emptiness began to weigh down her limbs.

There was only one person who’d be rapping at her door at this time of day, and he was the
last
man she wished to see now. Perhaps ever again.

She eyed the bed longingly, wanting nothing more than to climb beneath the covers and surrender to her exhaustion. That, however, was no longer an option.

She let her visitor in but headed straight back to the bathroom without acknowledging him. Even when he rasped out her name, she ignored him. The bathroom door clicked shut behind her, locking out the urgency in his voice.

Tori took her time brushing her teeth and pulling a comb through her hair, in no hurry to hold this conversation. It should have taken place weeks ago. The wee hours of the morning, two days before her supposed wedding, was too damn late to tackle issues as devastating as these.

In that moment, Tori hated the man standing in her hotel suite with every fiber of her being.

Taking a few deep breaths to steady her racing pulse, she finally walked back into the suite, crossed the bedroom and leaned against the wall of the lounge room, folding her arms in front of her chest. Then, and only then, did she let her gaze slide to the man pacing the length of the carpet.

So much for steadying her pulse. The sight of him made her heart jolt—in both fury and despair. It hammered away, so loud she was sure he could hear it. Tori locked her knees, in case they gave way to the shaking of her legs, and stared coldly at Declan.

He turned to face her with bloodshot eyes shadowed by dark rings and hair standing on end, as though he’d raked his hands through it a thousand times over. He looked terrible. And that was saying a lot. Her ex might be a spineless asshole, but he was a spectacular-looking spineless asshole. Even with his blond hair messed and his face drawn in anguish, he looked good.

Pity for him his looks would never compensate for his mistakes.

When he spoke, his voice sounded hoarse, as though he’d experienced a massive shock to the system. “I’m incredibly relieved to see you.”

Tori said nothing.

“I’ve been looking for you for hours. Knocking on your door.” His hands moved as he spoke, at odds with the formality in his tone but reinforcing the desperation. “Driving around the Hunter, searching the grounds.”

Yeah? Well, bully for you.
And lucky for her he hadn’t thought to search the gazebo. At least not while she was in it. Or the pond she’d raced to as fast as her feet could carry her after leaving Declan’s room. The pond was a good kilometer away from the hotel. She’d stayed there for a long time, watching the dark water, before making her way to the gazebo.

“I didn’t know where you’d gone. I feared—” His voice cracked. “Fuck. Tor, I was scared shitless. I thought something had happened to you, you’d gotten hurt…”

Something
did
happen, dickhead. I
was
hurt.
Just not physically, in the way Declan implied. Still Tori chose not to answer. She just eyed him in silence.

No way was she going to make this conversation easy for him. Let Declan sweat his way through it. She’d respond only when she was good and ready, and she wasn’t ready yet. Not while her emotions heaved in turmoil.

Being near him again battered her senses, leaving her floundering. Part of Tori wanted to collapse in a heap and give way again to the hysterical sobs that pressed against her eyes and throat. Another part itched to rail against the bastard. The image of a strategically placed fist in his nose, or foot in his groin, was tempting enough to make Tori appreciate her locked knees all over again. They made sudden movement impossible.

If Tori yielded to her urge to hit Declan, she doubted she’d stop with one well-aimed swing. Besides, if she gave life to her rage, her other emotions would slip through too. While beating the crap out of the man she’d planned to marry might provide infinite satisfaction, allowing him to see the hurt and the tears was out of the question.

She’d never let him know how completely he’d broken her.

Her silence must have told him she wasn’t about to provide an explanation for her disappearance. He shoved a hand through his hair and gave up on the topic. “I’m just glad to see you’re okay.”

Okay? Was he on drugs? How the hell did he come to the conclusion she was okay after the shit that had transpired in his room? She glared at him, letting every iota of her disdain shine through her eyes.

Declan collapsed onto the couch. He placed his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands, and shook his head in defeat. “Christ, Tor, I’m so sorry. For everything.” The hoarseness in his tone told her that sorrow was very real. “I fucked up.”

Yeah, he had. Monumentally.

“In a really big way,” he said, mirroring her thoughts. “I’m sorry.” He lifted his head to look at her. “I should have told you. Should have spoken to you about this before now.”

Gee, ya think?
Keeping her expression impassive, Tori nodded.

“I hate that you stumbled on the truth. That was never meant to happen. I swear, I was going to tell you tonight.” He waved his hand over his shoulder. “Last night. I’d planned to lay it on the table and discuss everything with you. Finally be honest.”

Tori squared her shoulders. “Can we get to the point? It’s late. I’m tired. You don’t want to be here, and I don’t want you here.” Not anymore, anyway. Less than twelve hours ago, she couldn’t wait to see him. “Tell me what you would have said and then let me get some sleep, okay?” Was that her voice? That distant tone that implied she couldn’t care less what he had to say? It was a miracle she’d been able to draw enough breath to speak at all, never mind keep her cool so magnificently.

“Of course.” Declan nodded in concession. “I was going to tell you it was over. I was going to call off the wedding.”

She smiled thinly. “And your timing would have been impeccable, wouldn’t it? A few days before the wedding. When the entire family had already gathered at the hotel to help us celebrate.”

“My timing is fucked up.” To Declan’s credit, he didn’t look away. He held her gaze while he spoke, letting her see the shame and the regret in his eyes. “I should have spoken up earlier. Voiced my doubts weeks ago when I started having them. I didn’t, and that’s my bad.”

Tremors shook Tori’s stomach. “Doubts?” Of course he’d had them, or he’d never have pulled out of the marriage. Still, knowing he’d had them and hearing him voice them were very different.

“About us. Concerns that we weren’t strong enough to make it in the long run.” Declan clicked his jaw, something he did when he was stressed. Tori had always found the habit endearing. Now it just irritated her. “Here’s the thing, Tor. I love you. I probably always will, but… But I’m not
in
love with you. And much as I wish I saw a future together, I don’t. Not a happy future.”

Anger flashed through her, scalding her insides. “Yet six months ago you asked me to marry you. Told me you’d never been happier or more content. Told me we could accomplish whatever we wanted in life, so long as we did it together.” And she’d believed him, fool that she was.

“I was wrong. Christ knows, I wish I wasn’t…” He shrugged helplessly. “We’re too different. We want different things in life. You’re a homebody, happy to spend all your time with your friends and your family, happy with your work and the kids you teach, satisfied with everything you’ve achieved. And that’s great. For you. But me?” He shook his head. “Jesus, I hate my goddamned family. Every one of them. Spending time with them makes my skin crawl. I hate being at home, knowing there are opportunities to be had out there. And my work? Fuck knows, I’m never satisfied with anything I’ve done. I just want to achieve more, more, more.”

“Differences aren’t a bad thing, Declan. If we were too similar, we’d bore each other to death.”

Really, Tori? You’re arguing with him?
What on earth was she hoping to achieve?

She knew. She wanted to prove him wrong, so he’d realize he was giving up the best damn thing that had ever happened to him. Not so they’d get back together. No, Declan had ruined any chance of that ever happening. This was her vain attempt at preserving her pride.

“Some difference is good,” Declan agreed. “But we are worlds apart. Black and white. I’m too fucked up in my own head to know how to deal with real issues. You’re so together, Tor. Fully okay with who you are. I’ve tried to reconcile those differences in my head and find a way to make us work, but I can’t. Ideally, you’re the perfect woman for me. In theory it should have worked for us. But in reality the doubts won’t go away.”

He smacked his forehead, hard.

Tori winced, knowing it must have hurt. Then she prayed the sting lasted a very long time.

“Damn it! I should have said something before now.”

She bit back the sarcastic comment that sprang to her lips, choosing to keep it simple instead. “So why didn’t you?”

“Because I thought it was a phase.” His voice was filled with desperation. “I figured I’d get over it.”

Get over what exactly? Her? Their relationship? Or his dwindling feelings for her?

“I put it down to premarital jitters, believing I’d wake up one morning and the uncertainty about us would be gone.” He rubbed a hand over the spot on his forehead he’d just whacked, looking helpless. “It never happened.”

Every word he uttered was a shard of pain through her heart, but she remained stoic, refusing to allow him a glimpse into how much pain he’d caused her. She kept her arms firmly glued to her chest so he couldn’t see them tremble.

“How could I tell you I was failing you on such a fundamental level? We were making plans for forever, yet my gut kept telling me it wasn’t going to work.” His eyes pleaded for understanding. “Fuck knows, I wanted to marry you. I fought the cold feet. Every day, I convinced myself that by the time the big day rolled around I’d be fine.”

Nausea assaulted her belly. “For weeks you sat with this uncertainty, worried we wouldn’t survive, and you never said a word to me? You discussed the problem with your business partner instead?”

That hurt almost as much as the end of their relationship. She and Declan had been so close. Both emotionally and physically intimate. She’d confided her deepest thoughts and feelings to him. And there’d been a time he’d done the same with her. Not recently, obviously. But there had been a time. Yet when it came to the crunch, to the essence of his doubts and concerns, he couldn’t bring them up with her. “Am I that difficult to speak to? Was it easier for you to talk it out with a friend than the woman you’d planned to marry?”

“I never intended to discuss it with Noah. Our relationship was none of his business.” Click went his jaw. “But he picked up on my tension and confronted me on Wednesday, telling me I’ve been acting like a prick. I warned him to back off, but he kept pushing.” He paused, his lips stretched thin across his face. “When he brought up your name, I saw black. I slammed my fist into his jaw without thinking.” He muttered to himself.

Tori wasn’t sure, but she thought he called himself a prick
and
a fuckwit.

“After that, Noah gave me a choice: talk to him honestly or step into a ring with him for ten minutes.”

Noah boxed in his spare time. Not professionally, but he’d trained with some of Australia’s finest. Ten minutes in a ring with him could leave even the fittest athlete half conscious and bleeding.

“I spoke to him.” He squeezed his eyes shut briefly, as though squeezing pain away. “That’s when I knew for sure I couldn’t marry you.” His words were filled with regret, the emotion reflected in his very sad, defeated gaze. “I couldn’t do it to you or to me.”

Tori did not share his regret. Maybe tomorrow it would set in, but right now she was too crushed by his words and too pissed off with his decisions. “And you couldn’t have told me this yesterday? After coming to your startling conclusion?” He had to wait until everyone had schlepped to the Hunter Valley and begun the festivities?

He clicked his jaw. The sound was so loud and so annoying it seemed to reverberate through the room. “I would have come to you on Wednesday night, but Noah handed me a bottle of Scotch. I was in no shape to drive. I spent the night at the office.”

“And yesterday?”