Page 73 of Friends Who Fake It

But she did – how could she not? The dynamic, powerful man he’d been in London, before, had no weaknesses. No chinks in his armour. He was charismatic, powerful, insanely in charge.

So was this version of Xavier, and yet she understood the demons that must drive him. Demons that vulnerabilities would breathe into his soul.

“Because we meant nothing,” she said softly, her hands finding his chest and pushing at it. She ignored the pang of guilt – the guilt that Joshua’s existence spawned inside of her. Their son.

God. What had she done? She’d thought she was a different woman, less needy, less easy, and yet she’d fallen into his bed yet again, just like before. Fool! Idiot!

She needed to get out of his hotel, away from him, away from this.

“Sleeping with me isn’t going to change the facts. You’re obviously not going to remember me. The truth is, what we shared wasn’t worth remembering.” The words hurt. They cut so deep inside of her. “Okay?” She pushed away from him, standing with an attempt to hide how unsteady she felt. When had he removed her underwear? Somewhere between the lounge area of the suite and this palatial bedroom. She hadn’t even noticed. She looked around, vulnerable and exposed.

“No. That is not okay.” He, on the other hand, was completely dressed. He stood, turning his back on her for a brief moment so he could dispose of the condom and zip his pants back up, and then he was Xavier Salbatore once more. Unattainable, strong, intimidating.

Lying. Cheating.

She clamped her lips together, and turned her back on him. She had to get out of there.

“It’s the truth,” she insisted.

“There’s no way we felt like that and it didn’t mean anything.” He shook his head. “That doesn’t make any sense.” He ground his teeth together, expelling a guttural noise of impatience. “My English isn’t as good since the damned accident.”

More sympathy. More ache. She forced herself to remain strong.

“It isn’t possible for you to have felt like that in my arms and not meant something to me. Or for me to have meant something to you.”

You meant everything to me.She wanted to shout the words, she wanted to throw them at him, so that he would know how badly he’d hurt her. How completely she’d lost herself with their affair.

But she’d be a fool to give him that kind of power over her. She wouldn’t do it. He would never, for as long as they lived, know how easily he could hurt her.

“It was sex,” she snapped. “Get over it, Xavier.”

He was silent, regarding her as though she were an alien.

“Don’t you stand there judging me,” she bit out. “You were the one who was engaged. You were the one who got married months later.”

“When were we together?” He demanded, moving closer towards her. She stepped back and then turned, walking away from him. He followed.

“I was in London right before the accident. And three months prior to that. You said ‘four years ago’, so it must have been around the time I had the crash?”

She swallowed, the past all so close. She scooped up her dress and tried to step into it, but her legs were wobbly and her eyes were blurred by the threat of tears she was too proud to let fall.

“Does it matter?” She demanded.

“Yes. To me it matters very much.”

She pressed her back against the door, giving up on the dress for the moment.

“I cannot live with these gaps in my memory. I hate it. I want you to tell me everything, even if it hurts you, even if it hurts me. It is not fair that you have our relationship in your mind and I do not. Were it not for the accident, I would be standing here in full possession of the facts of what happened between us. I’m asking you to be fair. To be reasonable.”

“To be fair?” She disputed hotly, hating how his words burrowed into her flesh and spread through her veins. “You really think you can ask me to befairwhen you turned me into an unwitting mistress?”

A muscle throbbed in his jaw.

“Tell me everything,” he insisted. “So at least I know why you are so angry with me.”

Her eyes jerked to his. “Haven’t I already?” She demanded scathingly. “You wereengagedwhen we slept together. You got marriedafterwe slept together.”

“And what happened in between?” He demanded. “I want to understand everything. Tell me what my memory won’t.”

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