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Silence greeted him.
It was late. Maybe Nathalie had already gone to bed.
He couldn’t bring himself to face her. She had every right to be angry. He’d told her he’d stay to protect her, then he’d left as soon as Caleb arrived, leaving her to meet the newest member of her security detail on her own.
Despite what he’d told Lachlan, he’d been tempted to drive straight to Dulles and get on a flight to London. Instead, he drove around, cursing both his past and present selves for being a fool, before meeting up with Nathan and Caleb.
No more running away.
God help me. He wanted Nathalie.
He just wasn’t sure he could entrust his heart to her again.
A color-splashed canvas on the dining room table caught his eye and drew him up short. Brushstrokes of blue, yellow, red, purple, and orange sprang off the paper.
He and Nathalie had fallen in love over endless afternoons, splayed across a rug on the grassy lawn. Surrounded by those flowers.
And it had been love. On both their parts. He knew that now. Even if her love for him hadn’t been strong enough to overcome her father’s expectations and his father’s machinations.
“What do you think?” Nathalie’s hesitant question came from the darkened living room.
“It’s good.” He turned to see her hovering behind him, keeping her distance. “Brilliant, in fact.”
Her eyes look strained and red, as if she’d been crying. Again.
The thought bothered him.
Her paint-stained fingers crept to her ear. “Thank you. It came out better than I expected.”
He resumed his inspection of the watercolor because it was easier than meeting her wary gaze. “I used to love to watch you work.” She’d always painted with passion, and it showed in her art. It showed in this piece as well. “You’re quite talented. You could have been a professional artist.”
“You always said I should have attended the Royal College of Art rather than Oxford.” She smiled wistfully. “But then, I wouldn’t have met you.”
Ryder’s feet brought him to stand in front of her before he registered the movement. “Would that have been better? If you’d never met me?”
Tension filled the space between them.
Her smile faltered, her voice little more than a whisper. “No. I could never regret my time with you.”
“Maybe it would have been better for me.”
Guilt filled him at the pain darkening her golden-brown eyes.
“I don’t blame you for feeling that way.” Her voice trembled.
His hand lifted, toyed with one of her braids. She looked so damned cute with her hair done that way, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans. Softer, more relaxed than when she had her hair in a bun, wearing an expensive suit.
“Despite everything, I don’t regret my time with you, either.” Why he was offering such a confession, he didn’t know. “You had my heart, Nathalie.”
“I want it back.” She drew herself upright and gave him a determined stare. “Give me a chance to prove to you I won’t hurt you again.”
He hesitated. The offer was more tempting than he’d care to admit. “While I’m here, you have me.” He would give her that, at least.
“And how long will that be for? Your replacement bodyguard arrived, and you left this afternoon without even letting me know.”
He winced at the note of hurt mingled with the challenge in her voice. It had been an unprofessional move. “I’m staying until the job is done. I told you I’d protect you.”
Her bravado deflated along with her shoulders. “But when it’s over, you’re leaving me, aren’t you?”