Page 22 of Kyle
He sent her an amused look as he selected baby potatoes and chopped vegetables. "You're fishing Carly. I already explained how it is between me and my wife."
He did not even realize how easily the term had slipped from his mouth, but she had, and she was not pleased. He was not supposed to refer to her in that way. She poured the Sauvignon Blanc into two glasses and handed him one, a sulky expression on her lovely face. "I hate to think of the two of you alone in that house."
Kyle's brows lifted as he sipped his wine experimentally. "It's a big apartment. We give each other space."
"Does she know you're with me?" Carly hoped to God she did.
"She suspected. I did not say anything to her. She went to visit her brother."
She sipped wine and gave him a curious look, managing to hide the malice. "Or maybe she has a lover."
He shrugged, trying to ignore the tiny jab. "She's honest to a fault. If she said she's going to her brother then that's where she is."
"It sounds like you know and trust her."
"It so happens I do." There was a note of impatience in his voice that warned her he was getting tired of the topic.
Carly set her glass down a little too firmly, her fingers tracing the rim as though searching for something to anchor her. The flickering candles cast shifting shadows across her features, softening the sharpness in her eyes. For a moment, neither spoke, the quiet stretching between them like a bridge waiting to be crossed.
"I'm still upset." She told him a little tearfully. "It feels as if I've lost you forever."
His expression softened. It wasn't her fault that his future had been mapped out for him. And they had been involved. He was so deep in thought, he did not notice the past tense. That he was already thinking of them as no longer together.
"I'm still here."
She sipped wine and eyed him over the rim, blinking back tears. "I want to believe it. Oh darling, I wish you could stay the night."
"You know I can't." His voice was sharp, expression grim. "I agreed to meet you for dinner and that's all it's going to be."
She did not have to pretend the shock or the disbelief. "You mean, we... you're... What do you mean?"
"We cannot be with each other the way we had before." On his way to her place, he had made that decision. It did not sit right with him. He could not balance a wife and a mistress, even if it was just an arrangement, it wasn't something he could do.
For one, it would cheapen what he felt for the woman seated across from him and he could not afford the scandal if it was made public. And it would be. They were both too visible for it to be anything but. There was another reason too, one he was not willing to explore anytime soon. He kept seeing Ingrid likeshe was last night. All the curvy body wearing just a shirt. It had given him a restless night.
"You're breaking up with me." Carly's husky voice dragged him from his reverie.
He hesitated, searching her face for understanding. "I'm sorry, Carly. It isn't fair to you. Living with uncertainty, hoping for something I can't give." His voice was quiet yet held a finality that echoed in the candlelit silence.
This time she did not have to force the tears, they came, spilling down her white cheeks and sending twinges of guilt coursing through him. "Please don't."
"How can I help it." She whispered. "You sit there and shred my life to pieces. How can I not want to weep until I dissolve? I love you and I thought, I believed you loved me too."
"I...I do." There was a second of hesitancy as if he no longer knew how he felt. "But I cannot have you as a mistress. And that's who you'd be." He pushed away the plate, his appetite gone. Picking up his wine, he toyed with the stem of the glass, his expression grim. "My life has changed. I once thought we would be together on a long-term basis, but now that's changed."
"I cannot ask you to wait in case this thing I'm involved in will be over. You know that. My grandfather is demanding an heir and I...I will have to produce one."
Carly's breath hitched, her shoulders trembling. She pressed the heel of her hand to her mouth, trying to steady herself. The words hung between them, heavy and irrevocable. "So, this is goodbye," she murmured, voice barely above a whisper. The air seemed to grow colder, the cozy glow of the candles now casting long, lonely shadows across the room.
He shifted restlessly. "No. I don't know. It's not fair to keep you hanging. And that's exactly what I'd be doing if I ask you to wait." He shook his head. "I'm sorry."
*****
He spent some time driving around to clear his head before heading back to the townhouse. It certainly did not help to find her seated around the counter in the kitchen, wearing the same t-shirt and bulky socks. Her long fingers were wrapped around what smelled like herbal tea.
He really thought about just ignoring her and heading upstairs to his suite. The scene at Carly's had twisted him up. He had broken her heart, something that did not sit well with him.
"Rough night?" Her sultry voice grated on his nerves and had him marching into the kitchen. When he did not respond but merely yanked the fridge door open and took out a bottle of water, she watched him as he twisted off the cap and tossed it into the bin.
