Crash Into Me(77)

"Tell me I haven't wrecked our entire trip. Please don't let this spoil our good time."

"You haven't spoiled anything, Nina. Let's have a drink and eat something."

He stood and walked out to the suite's living room to pour himself a scotch while I cursed my stupidity and cleaned up the mess he'd made when he jumped out of bed. Sometimes I could be such a jackass, but rarely had I felt so awful about being one.

I found him sitting naked on the couch with a nearly empty glass in his hand. His face was drawn, and he looked tired as he swallowed the last gulp of alcohol. He stood to pour himself another drink, a sign that no matter what he said things weren't okay.

This was my doing, so I had to fix it. I knelt in front of him as he sat back down and leaned my head on his leg. "Did you eat anything? Do you want me to get you a plate?"

He shook his head. "No. I'm fine with just a drink. You eat, though. The food is impeccable."

I didn't want to eat. My appetite was gone. All I wanted was to fix what I'd done, but I didn't know how. There was something sad between us now. It was nothing obvious, but I felt it as I sat so close to him. Looking up at him, I wished more than anything that I knew the right words to say.

"I'm looking forward to visiting the museums tomorrow," I said quietly. "Are you?"

He smiled sweetly. "Only because you're going to be there."

"We're going to see some great works of art. I think you'll like it."

"I know I will because you like it."

"Love it, actually. Ever since I was a little girl, I've loved art."

He placed his hand on the back of my head and stroked my hair. "Love then."

We sat there saying nothing for a long time until he finally cupped my chin in his hand and said, "Let's go back to bed."

Taking my hand, he led me to the second bedroom past the one we'd been in earlier. He closed the door behind us and leaned down to press a passionate kiss onto my lips. His tongue slipped into my mouth to mingle with mine, making moisture rush to between my legs. I ran my hands over the soft skin of his back and moaned into his mouth.

As I was beginning to think we'd moved past the problem of earlier, he pulled back and stared down at me. My blood ran cold that he was angry or upset, but when he spoke, his words were full of tenderness that touched my heart and brought tears to my eyes.

"Your happiness and safety is all I care about. The thought of losing you terrified me."

"I know. I'm so sorry. I just didn't think," I said, wanting so much to make him feel better.

He kissed me to stop me from talking and shook his head. "Don't apologize. It made me realize I should have said this a long time ago. I love you, Nina, and I don't want to lose you."

Tears streamed down my cheeks at his words. He loved me like I loved him. Smiling through my tears, I sobbed, "I love you, Tristan. I'm the luckiest woman in the world because of you. You've given me everything a girl could dream of."

"I haven't given you anything you don't deserve. Don't ever forget that."

Within just a few minutes, the melancholy that had covered him lifted and he was the Tristan I loved to be around. We made love sweetly and tenderly, and as we lay there in each other's arms, I tried to forgive myself for what I'd done.

The truth was that I sometimes didn't know how to act around him. He was so hard to gauge at times, which made me feel like being myself was inappropriate. In the beginning, I had thought it was the money—the way he spent money on me unnerved me, making me feel as if he believed I was someone I wasn't. I'd never pretended to be anyone but myself, but I found it hard to believe that a man would simply give gifts just because he could. It was never him but me who had the problem. Just because I'd never been fortunate enough to meet someone like him didn't mean I didn't deserve him.