Page 46 of Taming the Beast (Fairy Tales of New York)

“I’ll call the girls. We’ll figure out what to do.”

Mercy felt her eyes fill and blinked to keep the tears at bay. “No, please don’t,” she said. “I don’t think I can talk about it. Not this time.” It was too deep. Too raw. Too much.

“How can I help, Mercy?” said Faith.

“You can’t,” she said wretchedly. “I wish you could.”

“What are you going to do?

”

She didn’t know. But she needed time. Space. A place to lick her wounds and get over what could never have been and she should never have considered. Maybe the December heat of Mendoza could make her warm again. At least she’d be in no danger of bumping into Seb down there. “Term’s over,” she said, feeling a glimmer of something good spark in the ravaged remains of her heart. “I have four weeks off. I think I might go home.”

Chapter Eleven

‡

“Well, aren’t you the prize jackass?”

At the sound of the voice right in front of him and coming from somewhere above him, Seb jerked and snapped his head up to find Zelda standing in his office, just the other side of his desk.

Her hands were on her hips. Her face was thunderous, her color high. Her eyes flashed and her voice fairly bubbled with outraged anger.

Seb narrowed his eyes as he looked at her, his mind churning. What was Zel doing here? She never visited the Madison Building. Why now? Why hadn’t he been warned she was on her way up? How long had she been standing there? Why hadn’t he even noticed her arrival? Why had he been staring at the same page of the report lying on his desk for over an hour? And above all, what the bloody hell was wrong with him these days?

Nothing seemed to be going right lately. Nothing. He couldn’t eat. He couldn’t sleep. His mood was so filthy he’d started scaring the staff. Something was off. Something was definitely off.

“Hi, Zel,” he said coolly, sitting back slowly and linking his hands as if everything was absolutely fine. “How was Russia?”

“Wonderful.”

“Ty?”

“Even more wonderful.”

“And the jet lag?”

“It’s a bitch.” She flung herself into a chair, all languid grace and long limbs, despite the fiery indignation. “And you’re a bastard.”

As well as a prize jackass? Inwardly Seb tensed, but kept his expression neutral. “All this just because I cancelled dinner?”

Sure it had been short notice, like half a day’s, but he really hadn’t felt like it. He hadn’t felt like anything recently, but the thought of spending an evening watching a deliriously happy Zel snuggling up to an equally besotted Ty Sullivan on his sofa really had been too much to stomach.

“This has nothing to do with dinner,” said Zelda brusquely. “This is about Mercy.”

The mere mention of her name slammed into Seb with the force of a blow to the stomach.

Great.

It had been a week since he’d spoken to Mercy and he’d been doing so well at not thinking about her. So well at not missing her. Not anymore.

“Soda?” he muttered, jerking to his feet, suddenly keen to get away from the desk that held too many memories. “Water? Anything?”

Zel’s blue eyes flashed. “No, thank you.”

“Mind if I have one?”

“Go ahead.”

---