Page 86 of Angel Eyes

“Hey,” she breathed, her green eyes settling on mine. “You came.”

“You doubted me?” I feigned a look of hurt, and the tiniest trace of a smile crossed her lips. “Want to tell me what happened?”

She lifted onto one elbow, swiping at her tear-stained cheek. “It’s nothing. I’m probably being ridiculous.”

“Don’t do that.” I pinched her chin between my thumb and forefinger. “Don’t invalidate your feelings like they don’t matter. If you’re crying, there’s a reason.”

She hesitated, her eyes darting back and forth. “I don’t want you to think badly of him. It wasn’t his fault. I think something happened to upset him.”

“And by him, you mean …” I asked, even though I had a good idea of who she was referring to. The corners of her mouth tightened, and I cleared my throat, deciding to try for levity. “Do I need to invoke bench rules, Ms. Chandler?” Her face split into a grin as she released a watery laugh, and a trickle of warmth spread through me. “There she is.”

“Um, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Cristian, but this is a sofa, not a bench.”

I swiped a thumb over her cheek. “Use your imagination, sweetheart.”

She held my gaze for a long moment, then loosed a breath, her eyes settling somewhere over my shoulder. “We … Gabriel and I went to a gala tonight and everything was … amazing.”

“Mm-hmm. And then what happened?”

“I don’t know. He got a call, and his demeanor changed completely. I didn’t hear the conversation, but I could tell from his body language something was wrong.”

A stone dropped into the pool of my stomach. “Did he say who it was?”

She frowned, a crease forming between her eyebrows. “It was a woman, I think. Her name was Elena … no, Eloise—”

“Elise?”

Her eyes snapped to mine. “Yes, that was exactly it. How did you know?”

Nice going, idiot.

“Lucky guess.”

She nodded, dropping her gaze and falling silent for so long I wondered whether I should come up with a better excuse for my slip of the tongue. But those thoughts fell to the wayside when she drew in a shuddering breath, her lashes suddenly wet.

“I don’t know what to do,” she cried, her expression full of anguish, and a hard object lodged itself in my throat as a tear escaped down the side of her face. “Every time I’m certain of his feelings, something happens. Some person appears out of the blue and makes me doubt everything between us or …” She hiccupped. “Or he pulls back at the last minute.”

Another sob broke free of her throat, and it was all I could do not to blow the entire plan to hell by calling Gabriel to give him an earful.

“What do I do, Cristian? He won’t let me in. And maybe it’s my fault for not telling him the truth, but I …” She swiped a hand over her cheek. “Should I give up on him?”

Her shoulders trembled as she cried in earnest, and I gathered her into my arms without hesitating, letting her tears soak into my sweatshirt.

Fuck. This had gone too far. I had gone too far. Even though I was sure Juliet’s feelings for Gabriel were genuine, perhaps she would have been spared this if I hadn’t kept pulling her strings like a puppet master. I was as much to blame for her current state as Gabriel and, for the first time, I experienced a new emotion, one I had never felt before.

Shame.

As much as I wanted to please Marcel, I was done using Juliet to do it. And even though it was too late to take back my past falsehoods, I could be honest with her starting now.

“I can’t answer that. Only you can decide whether to give him another chance. But …” I extended an arm toward a tissue box on the coffee table. “What I can tell you is no man is perfect. Gabriel may care for you, but there may be things in his past”—I forced a swallow—“things that might be difficult for him to share. I’m not excusing his behavior tonight, but whatever happened, I promise it had nothing to do with you.”

She blinked, her eyes searching. Then she dropped her head again, nodding into my chest.

“All right, it’s time we got you to bed.” She stumbled as she stood, and my eyes darted suspiciously to the empty wine bottle. “I’m going to carry you, okay?”

Without waiting for an answer, I swept her up in my arms and moved carefully through the dark in search of her bedroom. Finding it at the end of a short hallway, I pushed the door open with a knee and settled her onto the bed before switching on a lamp on the bedside table. My eyes returned to where Juliet sat perched on the bed, looking at me expectantly.

I scratched my ear. “Can you get changed on your own or …”

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