Page 44 of Taming the Beast (Fairy Tales of New York)

She might have determined she was going to tell Seb she was in love with him while drunk as a skunk, but she’d checked that repeatedly throughout the day and it still seemed like a very good idea.

And OK, so she’d probably been a bit optimistic when she’d thought he’d be pleased she’d taken it upon herself to help him but they could work through that, just as they could work through the many other obstacles that no doubt lay in their way. If Seb was willing, if she was willing – which she was – it would all be good.

Picking up her phone and looking at the incoming call information, Mercy felt an unstoppable grin spread across her face.

“Hello,” she said, her heart leaping about all over the place no matter how much she tried to stop it.

“Hi.”

“How are you?”

A pause. Then, “Fine.”

Just the sound of Seb’s voice made her go warm all over and her stomach flip. Dios, she hoped he didn’t run a mile when she told him how she felt about him. She’d be c) devastated if he did. “Want to know where I am?” she said, not allowing herself to entertain that possibility.

“Mercy.”

He sounded tense. Stressed. As turned on as she was, maybe. “I’m in the bath,” she said, lowering her voice to the seductive level he’d never been able to resist. “Wearing nothing but bubbles and feeling kind of hot. Want to come over?” she asked and held her breath because this was departure from their usual routine; this was a gamble.

Which was met with silence.

“It’s Friday,” he said.

“I know that.”

Another silence. “Mercy, we need to talk.”

Yes, they did, she thought, buzzing with love. She had so much to tell him she was nearly bursting with it. But there was no way was she going to do it over the phone. She wanted to see his face when she told him she was in love with him.

Maybe he wanted to talk because he’d reached the same conclusion as her, that this wasn’t just sex. Or maybe he hadn’t. Maybe he wanted to tell her he was going away on business or something. Whatever. She could wait.

“Well, I’m not going anywhere,” she said, ignoring a faint feeling of foreboding because there wasn’t anything wrong. Of course there wasn’t. What on earth could be wrong? “But seeing as you’re such a stickler for the rules, what time do you want to meet up tomorrow?”

There was a pause. A sigh. Harsh. Resolute. Unforgiving. That sense of foreboding grew and now she was thinking maybe something was wrong. “Seb?” she said, a trickle of alarm winding through her. “What’s the matter?”

“Look, there’s no easy way to say this, Mercedes, so I’ll just come out and say it.”

Her blood ran cold and her heart gave a lurch. “Say what?”

“I want out.”

The words hit her brain and for a moment she froze. She couldn’t think what to say. Couldn’t believe she’d heard correctly because, what? “I’m sorry?” she said, her voice sounding all weird.

“This arrangement has been…good…but it’s over.”

Her vision blurred. Her brain stumbled. Her tongue felt thick. “But why?”

“It’s run its course.”

What? How? How could he say that? It hadn’t run its course. Not by a mile. How could this be?

“For me, at least,” he was saying. “And if you remember, our original agreement stipulated that if either of us wanted to end things then they could. I’m exercising my right to do just that.”

Feeling as though the bottom was falling out of her stomach, Mercy swallowed hard. “Is there anything I can do to persuade you to change your mind?”

“No,” he said, and the word was so clipped, so final, that what he was telling her hit her suddenly, with the force of a blow to the head, and sank in.

This was it. This really was it. She’d been gearing up to tell him she loved him and he’d been gearing up to tell her it was over.

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