Page 47 of Taming the Beast (Fairy Tales of New York)

Wishing he had that unfinished bottle of whisky to hand although he’d hardly drink it in front of Zel, Seb stalked to the bar, yanked open the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. “Na zdorovie,” he muttered in Zel’s direction, cracking it open and downing it.

“Whatever,” she said, and he was aware of her watching him as he threw himself onto the couch and then shuffling her chair round to face him. “So. Mercy.”

“What about her?” he said flatly.

“Watch out, Seb. You’re reverting to form.”

He arched an eyebrow. “So?”

“You’ve been doing so well. Don’t ruin it now.”

“I’ll endeavor not to.”

“How do you think she is?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen her.” And he didn’t care how she was, he wanted to add, but for some reason, couldn’t.

“Of course you haven’t. Because you ditched her, didn’t you? Over the phone.”

He bristled at the censure in her voice. “And?”

“Let’s take the shittiness of that as given. What I want to know is, why?”

“It’s none of your business.”

“I’m making it my business. She’s my friend. You’ve hurt her.”

Exactly as he’d predicted he would. Something deep inside him clenched. “She’ll get over it.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

“It was never anything serious anyway.” Liar.

“Are you certain of that?”

“Of course,” he said, shutting down the annoyingly persistent voice in his head.

“Do you realize she loves you?”

Seb went still, every cell of his body feeling weirdly tight and primed, as if on the brink of something momentous, although why that should be he had no idea. “No, I didn’t realize that,” he said, forcing himself to relax. “But you’re wrong. She doesn’t love me.” She couldn’t love him. Why would she? That hadn’t been part of the deal. And he was damaged, broken and a bastard – hardly good enough for someone like her.

“Yes, she does.”

“Then it’s even more for the best that I ended it,” he said, doing his utmost to convey utter indifference because he didn’t understand why it should even matter how she felt about him or why it should hurt that he wasn’t good enough for her.

“What happened, Seb?” said Zel, moving to sit on the couch opposite his and leaning forward. “Did she get too close?” she asked, her gaze so damn probing Seb could feel right in the center of him. “Did you get bored?”

Seb stared at her, stunned into speechlessness for a moment. Bored? Bored? God, he’d been so far from bored he’d have laughed his head off if he’d been in any mood for humor.

“Or are you simply terrified?”

What? No. That was even more wrong than ‘bored’. “What would I have to be terrified of?” he said, the challenge clear in his voice.

“You still think you’re bad news, don’t you?”

“I am bad news, Zel. I end up destroying everyone I care about. You know that first hand. I won’t have it happen to Mercy.”

Zel’s gaze sharpened. “So you do care about her?”

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