The Bride Goes Rogue (The Fifth Avenue Rebels #3)(87)

“Of course you would,” she murmured dryly. “And you get everything you want, don’t you?”

“You know that’s not true.”

She pressed her lips together and gave him her profile, her gaze on the painting above the mantel. He forced himself to be patient, though he longed to hear what was going on in her head. “Preston,” she finally said, her voice tight and low. “I lose at every turn with you. The betrothal agreement, the property. Even my heart. I keep losing and losing. Eventually I need to—” She broke off and dragged in a deep breath. “I need to put myself first or else I fear there’ll be nothing left.”

A wound opened up in his chest, like his skin was being torn apart. Was that how she saw him? Their interactions? “I never meant to hurt you. With any of it. God, Kat. I’d rather die than cause you any pain.”

When she faced him again, her eyes were glistening. “But you did, intentional or not. I’m sorry, but I can’t do this any longer.”

I was in love with you, and you broke my heart. It can’t be repaired.

Those had been her words upon his arrival upstate and, even after the last five days, nothing had changed. She couldn’t forgive him.

Yes, but do I deserve her forgiveness?

Perhaps not, but he knew in this moment that he was not ready to give up on her, on them. He couldn’t see his life without her in it. There’d never been a woman who owned him body and soul like this, and the idea that he might lose her made him want to drop to his knees and beg her to stay.

He hadn’t ever said the words to a woman before, but he knew what this bone-deep fear meant. This obsession with everything about her, the need to constantly be at her side.

He had to tell her. Now, before it was too late.

Closing the distance between them, he cradled her jaw in his hands. “Katherine, I love you. I’m in love with you. Please, say you will love me back.”

A single tear escaped her lashes and slid along the slope of her cheek. She eased away from him and his arms fell uselessly to his sides. “I can’t. It’s not fair to myself. I cannot be a pawn for you to dismiss and manipulate. I must stand on my own.”

“I will help you to do that,” he rushed to say. “Take the property in Washington Heights. Let’s build your museum there.”

“How is that standing on my own, exactly?”

“Katherine, I know how to oversee these sorts of projects and get them done quickly. It’ll make it easier for you.”

She clasped her hands together and placed them under her chin, gazing heavenward as if looking for patience. “You are not listening to me, which only proves my point. It proves how ill-suited we are.”

Panic began to fill his chest, like water rising in a flood. He struggled to breathe, the air in the room in shorter and shorter supply. “No, you’re wrong. We’re perfectly suited, and we share the same interests. In fact, I think you should marry me.”

While he’d blurted the words, he didn’t consider taking them back. He wanted to marry her.

She didn’t appear thrilled by his declaration. Quite the opposite, as more tears tracked down her cheeks. “That was the most astonishingly terrible proposal of marriage I’ve ever heard, and that is saying a lot considering Pride and Prejudice is my favorite novel.”

This was rapidly turning into a disaster. “I didn’t have time to plan out a proper proposal, but I will. I’ll give you all the romance and heartfelt emotion you can stand.”

“I don’t want it. Furthermore, I’m not certain I’d believe it.”

Ouch. The words stung. “I’ve never lied to you, Kat.”

“Not directly to me, no. Yet you forged a deed to get it out of my hands. You told me you were dishonest, but I didn’t listen, did I?”

“I will repeat this until you believe me: that land always belonged to me, never your father.”

She edged toward the hallway. “We’re done here. I have things to do and no doubt you have a mountain of work awaiting you.”

His hands curled into fists at his sides. This wasn’t it. “We aren’t done discussing this. If you think I won’t fight for you, that I won’t tear this city apart with my bare fucking hands to make you mine, then you are dead wrong.”

A clock chimed somewhere nearby but he didn’t take his eyes off her as they studied one another. He didn’t know what else he could say.

Her expression never changed as she said, “Goodbye, Preston.”

She started for the door and alarm filled him, so he darted to block her path. Swallowing, he blurted, “Please, Katherine. Don’t hate me. I need you so much.”

Her palm stretched to rest on his jaw, her thumb brushing his cheek. “I don’t hate you, you complicated man, but I need more than what you’re willing to give me. You’re like those towers you build—solid and impenetrable. As unshakable as bedrock. Go, conquer the world.” Her voice cracked slightly. “You’ll be fine without me.”

“No, please. Don’t do this. Give me a chance to make it right.”

She let her hand fall slowly. “There’s no point. We don’t need more chances to see what we both know is impossible.” Edging around him, she slid open the door and disappeared.