Page 84 of The Billionaire’s Fake Fiancée
Jace takes a step back. Lets me go to put up his palms and show he means no harm.
My eyes are drawn to his forearms, up toward the play of muscles across his shoulders. I realize then, what's bothering me.
He's dressed in a far more casual way than before. I've never seen Jace wear a hoodie. He's trying to blend in with the crowd inside.
No chance.
That familiar aura of power clings to him, one that will always set Jace apart from the crowd no matter where he is.
His face also looks thinner, cheekbones standing in relief to the rest of him. He's not been eating properly.
A surge of concern runs through me, and I clamp down on it. He means nothing to me. I have no reason to care for him.
When I meet his eyes, I flinch. Those silver-green eyes are exactly as I remember them. They stand out, even more vivid on his darker face. Right now, they're glowing with suppressed emotion, with pain and anger.
He's angry with me.
So mad that he can't trust himself to touch me for fear of breaking my bones.
I breathe in sharply, and pain twists my gut.
Why should I be surprised? I should not have expected anything different. Of course he's upset. I would be too if he had broken a promise and walked away at the crucial moment.
I put up my palms, my gesture meant to soothe.
The rage on his features fades away, leaving behind pain. And hurt. So much hurt. It vibrates off him. Lonely. He's so lonely. Confused. He feels betrayed. He'd trusted me, and I’d let him down.
"I'm sorry, Jace." The words burst out of me, and I'm not even sure anymore what I'm apologizing for. For him. For me. For what we could have been?
42
Sienna
* * *
The fluorescent light of the parking lot flickers, illuminating the blue-black of Jace's hair. Car brakes screech, then a vehicle passes by. It breaks the silence between us.
"Why, Sienna?" Jace's voice is stiff, controlled.
He's upset, accent more clipped than usual, his words like blocks of ice flung at me.
I shiver, fold my arms over my waist, hugging myself, to protect myself against his lack of emotion. That cold darkness he now exudes?dark hole that sucks away everything real and human about him, that is going to push him into doing things he'll regret later.
"I shouldn't have left you," I say, and his face goes still.
"You think?" he says, voice sharp enough to cut through me, tearing at pieces of me I thought I'd kept hidden from him, from the world.
I swallow at the leashed pain in his voice and nod. "I broke our agreement. I was wrong."
He stares, taken aback, as if he doesn't believe me.
Folding his arms over his chest, he leans back a little on his heels in a gesture that indicates he's waiting … waiting for me to make the first move.
His jaw hardens. It's as if he's shut himself off, and I can't feel him anymore. And that disturbs me even more. It spurs me to take a step toward him. Then another, till our bodies almost touch.
He doesn't react.
But his eyes are fixed on my face. Snapped there with such intensity that the pale green glitters.
